Heart of the Swarm - Alternate
by DeltaCadimus
Summary: [WARNING - Unofficial Alternate Novelization] The Queen of Blades has fallen. The Swarm was defeated and Sarah Kerrigan has been restored to humanity. The war for the Koprulu Sector is over. Or is it? AU, OC, JimxSarah.
1. Disclaimer and Personal Comments

**_DISCLAIMER AND THOUGHTS ABOUT HOTS:_**

_I'll be upfront and clear. When StarCraft II: Heart of the Swarm came out, I didn't like it's story. Not one bit. In my opinion Blizzard and it's writer, Chris Metzen, have managed to reach lengths even worse than the predictable story for Diablo III. That's what made me start writing this Fanfic._

_Before I start pointing out the bad elements from Heart of the Swarm, I'd like to state that Wings of Liberty wasn't decent at all. That is because of the prophecy bull (Obviously pulled out of novels like Harry Potter, Twilight and others) and the fact the antagonists weren't that much appealing, only taunting the players with typical one-liners and sending predictable wave after wave of enemies, all while waiting to fall to players with a modicum of competence. However, after Heart of the Swarm, I don't want to hear anyone EVER complaining about Wings of Liberty. Compared to Heart of the Swarm, Wings of Liberty is a masterpiece._

_On a critic I read concerning the story, it is said that the story is one you can't take too seriously. After playing through the campaign, I'd like to reply that one thing is to not take the story seriously, you never could with StarCraft. But an entirely different another is to write a story that offends people's intelligence and memories. It's what Heart of the Swarm does, in most aspects: Void secondary characters, a poor story planning and worse execution, unreliable decisions and behavior of protagonist and antagonist alike, forgettable dialogue, and the absolutely unforgivable retcons that made the bad story even worse, that are Alexei Stukov's return (Taken from Ressurection IV, a semi-canon campaign that can't even be taken seriously) and the Primal Zerg, who were just made up because Blizzard wanted so to be there. Out of most companies that make use of retcons, Blizzard is the one who makes the most abuses. And, because of these abuses, HotS only goes in a worse direction, and even worse can be expected out of the next expansion, Legacy of the Void._

_I am DeltaCadimus, the writer of this Fanfic. What has been and what will be written here doesn't represent the views of or any other person but me. It is not meant to be an attack on individuals mentioned or those to be mentioned. They are only written examples and pointing out elements that I feel is what keeps Heart of the Swarm from achieving the potential it should._

_This is **Heart of the Swarm Alternate**, a personal view of how events should have transpired, in my opinion. This is a Fan Fiction, so it's not to be considered as official writing or be taken seriously. It is not to be considered as an insult to the people dedicated to Blizzard's work, but rather a protest form in response to the writing level performed in Heart of the Swarm._

_And such, as a Fan Fiction, it will suffer extremely heavy alterations in comparison to Blizzard's work, starting with the invalidating of the Flashpoint novel. While I have little grudge against Flashpoint compared to Heart of the Swarm, there are events and occurrences which require me to invalidate the novel's course. That's just the first of many changes that will come up in this Fan Fiction. Many others will come, relating events, how the story runs and even the characters, which will be one of the major fixes this Fanfic will be performing. Another fix I can assure you is the removal of those goddamn retcons and their replacement with things that make a bit more sense compared to those._

_For those of you who've taken their time to read these lines and accepted what will come next, then I wish you a good reading and hope you have some fun spending your time reading these lines about to be written. Otherwise... well, patience._

**_DeltaCadimus_**


	2. Prologue - The Knight and the Princess

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**PROLOGUE - ****THE KNIGHT AND THE PRINCESS**

_It should have been simple. A mighty fortress of walls, ready to receive the blow of the army standing before it. Within it, soldiers and warriors and artillery stand ready to defend it and the people inside or die in the attempt._

_On the other side, lies the monsters, intent on violating the sanctity of these walls. Once broken, all would die, and the king's castle would be made vulnerable. The monarch exposed, ready to receive the final blow._

_Yeah, it should have been simple. At least that's what I thought. Just attack, die and the people live forever ever after. The problem is that it's not simple. It never was. Because the castle is ruled by a tyrant, and, by a stroke of irony or poetic justice... The monsters are the heroes here._

_Maybe it'd make more sense if I went back a few months ago... Before it came to this._

**_- Sarah Kerrigan, prior to the Dominion Imperial Palace siege in Augustgrad, Korhal._**

* * *

**CHAR, PRIMARY ZERG THRONEWORLD**

**TEN MINUTES AFTER THE FALL OF THE QUEEN OF BLADES**

_"Jim?", asked a fainting female voice._

_"It's okay. I gotcha.", answered a male voice, like that of a hero. That answer ended everything._

It was over. The torment of a hero, the nightmare of a sector, a fierce battle and the life of a man. It all ended there. And the final shot to the face of a betraying man named Tychus Findlay was the exclamation point to everything that led James Eugene Raynor to that outcome. The outcome when he'd see the princess he loved, a former woman turned monster named Sarah Kerrigan, on his arms once again.

For five years, with his rough face nearly covered by the disheveled hair and short beard and mustache, akin to the American cowboys of old, Raynor had been living in utmost torment since that day. The day she was betrayed by one she trusted and became what Raynor previously saw. For five years he couldn't sleep right nor think towards moving on or a better future, away from the conflict that came to involve the entire Koprulu Sector. For five years he had been searching in desperation for a chance in redeeming himself, in redeeming his failure in saving her. On that day, she asked him to stop being a knight in shining armor. He tried to do it. But after she was left behind to die, he couldn't. He always blamed himself for not being the knight until it was too late to go and save him. But now he'd come to save his princess, and wearing the knight armor, courtesy of the space armor he and the men wore. As bulkier as it sounded, this armor came to be standard of warfare in the 26th century.

And, with the monsters the Zerg are gone now, he only needed to worry with the king's army. The armies that followed the knight thus far, but were loyal to the man who started all that. Who unleashed the Devil by offering the princess as sacrifice to an army of monsters. Monsters bent on destroying and consuming everything. They were denizens of the fleshy palace Raynor and the men around him were, of the very planet soil that humans were stepping on. For the planet Char was not a home fit for Terrans, but for the Zerg. It was the throne of their Queen, which was Kerrigan. Now, stripped of her power and her infestation, the Queen had fallen and the monsters had fallen in disarray, for without a hand to control them, the Zerg Swarm are ruled by an unreliable force called chaos.

"Sir?", spoke another male voice close to him. It came from Dug Mason, one of the men close to Raynor. One of the Marines loyal to Raynor, loyal to the group that dared betray the largest Terran authority since it's Emperor used the Zerg's attraction for psionics to destroy the core planet of the defunct Confederacy, with monsters butchering millions as he seated upon the throne of Augustgrad, moved the capital from Tarsonis to Korhal and reunited the broken Confederate Terrans and many other survivors of the horror of war into a single Dominion.

Raynor didn't pay attention then, focusing on the literally naked woman he held in his arms. The woman who had all traces of her infestation gone, except for her hair, which still remained a collection of thick tendrils, looking like small tentacles covered in small bone-like carapaces. Her bone-white limbs, resembling huge bat wings, her purple scaled skin that covered her entire body, even the spikes on her feet heels that resembled high heel shoes, those were gone. For one who was ruled the monsters that were the embodiment of children's nightmares, she was now very vulnerable and open for the final blow. And she nearly was delivered the final blow a few moments ago, were not for Raynor to be there to intervene.

"Sir? What of Findlay?", inquired Mason again, gesturing at the corpse where Tychus Findlay was. A corpse encased in blue armor, and, thanks to Raynor's aim, was a mess of blood, flesh and brain cells where was a face. Where the shooter expression 'right between the eyes' had been taken to a literal sense. Raynor payed attention to Mason this time, but didn't change his look.

"Leave him.", Raynor coldly answered. Mason and the others were disturbed by the answer. After all, apart from the assassination attempt, everyone knew Findlay was closest to Raynor from his years of acting outside the law. Now, to leave him behind, especially when he could be done worse by the Zerg...

"But... we can't just leave people behind, boss.", replied Mason, trying to argue with Raynor. "Not even dead people, not to these Zerg."

"His suit may have a bomb, for all I know.", replied Raynor. "I'm not risking her or any of you because of a backstabber. You can come later if you want and dump him on lava or something..."

Raynor's answer ended the conversation. Raynor knew his friend would choose his own life over the girl his friend fought so much for, as was delivered by the man who released him. Raynor wanted to believe Tychus was released by someone other than the Emperor of the Dominion, he wanted to believe that Tychus could be saved. It was all a lie. His friend was offered a deal, and he took it. And the price would be high.

Still, Raynor wondered... If Tychus was indeed bugged by Arcturus Mengsk, why didn't he strike Raynor _earlier?_ Yes, there was the risk of making Raynor a martyr, but, as a Spectre friend once told him, of course his patience had limits too. Raynor_ knew_ he somehow crossed the line after raiding the UNN studios and broadcasting evidence of Mengsk's involvement in the Tarsonis genocide. And yet, Mengsk didn't move, even when Raynor had the evidence aboard and didn't transmit it... Why Arcturus only saved this moment for now? Was it possible that the target wasn't Jim, just Kerrigan and her alone?

Letting the questions aside, Jim got on his feet holding the naked Kerrigan and stepping to the outside mouth that was the entrance to the fleshy palace. The Zerg interiors themselves were all made of inedible meat, carapace and decorated with either purplish scales or giant pink-red orbs so soft that remembered transparent balloons. These balloons, curiously, provided it's share of light for what would be otherwise a very dark ambiance, but still it wasn't enough for human eyes. On the ground, below the unending fog and mist, lied a mess of flesh and carapace without any purpose or esthetical beauty. The Zerg, themselves, never cared about appearances at all, only the functionality of their warrior strains. Still, the seemingly huge structure Raynor and his men were seemed to only house this chamber, making it a makeshift throne room, without any bathroom, bedroom, dungeon or any chamber housing a reserve guard for invasion cases. Indeed, the Zerg were not human and would not understand the Terran concepts of a castle, but even for them, the guards could not be ignored, ready to die defending their queen if they ever managed to breach the sanctity of the Prime Hive Cluster.

Walking to the outside, he could see in Kerrigan the fainting, weak state she currently was. No doubt the impact of the Xel'Naga artifact was too much for her to bear. Raynor didn't feel anything, nor any Terran on Char that wasn't infested, for General Warfield assured the artifact's effects were harmless to humans. The artifact, an imposing black triangular pillar comprised of five separate pieces that bent together like a child's puzzle, was stored safely on the Terran frontlines, under the care of Warfield. The artifact didn't have to be his concern, now it was the girl who he was carrying. It didn't take many steps before Raynor and Kerrigan could feel the sunlight shining and warming their skins.

The outside of the Zerg _'palace'_, the very surface of planet Char, was a never ending dark gray wasteland, covered by a never ending sundown the entire day. Rough peaks and canyons and spikes and towers, all gray and black, formed the mountainous landscapes, colored only by the yellow lava strains on the ground or the massive fiery red lava rivers below. A continuous stream of windy ash continued to rain across the Hell that was this planet. The heat itself was barely survivable by human standards. Pure and simple, according to Warfield, if Hell ever existed, it's name was Char. By the moment he looked at the landscape and then at Sarah again, her eyes were shut and not waking up. She had fainted.

Working his left arm to properly hold her, he touched his right hand in one of the space helmet's cables, activating the intercom enabling him to talk to his second-in-command.

"Matt, you read me?", Raynor asked to the intercom.

"Affirmative, sir.", answered Matt Horner, on the other side. "Did it work?"

"You have to see it to believe it, Matt...", answered Raynor, looking at the unconscious Kerrigan. A bit of a pause occurred before Matt started speaking again.

"You know you'll have to thank Valerian, later.", Horner said.

"That's for later, Matt.", Raynor commented. "For now, we both could use a ride."

"That will be complicated.", Horner said. "The artifact's shockwave hit the Zerg real hard. With the Queen of Blades out of the picture, they're on a rampage frenzy, killing everything, everyone and one another. Not only this, but we just heard on the comms that the rest of the Dominion fleet is on the way."

"Arcturus...", Raynor whispered, knowing this would come sooner or later. He knew the Emperor would come to take the reigns of the recently-turned situation, even with Kerrigan's Zerg self defeated. Or maybe it wasn't for the victory or the artifact, but the fact his son usurped half of the mighty Dominion Armada to venture the crusade to dethrone Kerrigan.

Then, there was the matter of the Zerg, who always go mindless and feral every time something happens in the ruling wheels of the Swarm. Like it happened with the former Overmind and the Cerebrates of the past, when the Protoss explored this weakness with the aid of the Dark Templar, the Zerg broods would run amok and lounge at everything they saw, including one another. The Zerg hierarchy was strongly organized and easy centralized, but also the most vulnerable. For cutting the head of the beast makes it move senseless and without direction. And the same now repeated with the fall Kerrigan, 'Queen of Blades' being a former title of her former infested self.

"I'd watch the Dominion people if I were you, sir.", Horner commented. "For all we know they might want to put their hands on her for a reward or something. And I doubt even Warfield can restrain men."

That was hardly a surprise for Raynor. Kerrigan, for all she had done, would forever carry the same burden as old villains and monsters of old, with the townsfolk pursuing her with torches and pitchforks for all time, everywhere she went where there were more than five people. She, in her time as the Queen of Blades, faced the mightiest of empires and shattered their armies. She consumed entire worlds and societies, infesting those strong enough to be expendable puppets. She broke apart families, friendships, alliances and agreements to keep or gain more of her power. And thus, a line of people willing to fight her and kill her was formed. A line that would draw for an eternity, so much people wanting her blood. Some for revenge, for loved ones lost, others for the potential reward they would gain if she was delivered dead or alive. Farmers, soldiers, miners, scientists, fathers, sons, brothers and sisters... All united with a common interest on an enemy.

But what none would know is that Kerrigan herself would not remember any of it. Like if her soul and her human self were trapped inside an invisible prison, she wouldn't remember all she done, all she made, and thus, she would die an unfair trial, not being able to deliver an explanation, which would always be shouted down with the same tiresome phrase: _'Kill Kerrigan!'_. No defense, no chance for recovery. Just another witch to be burned in public, like it was with the old times of the Inquisition and the teachings of the infamous _Malleus Maleficarium._

"How much time we got?", Raynor asked.

"It's a tight window, sir. You have to be on the artifact base by the time the _Kaleb_ arrives.", Horner answered. "ETA is six minutes once you cut off the comms. By the time you board, it's straight lift off and hauling ass back to here."

"Speaking of which, what about the _Hyperion_?", Raynor asked, concerning the old Behemoth-class battlecruiser he and his group commandeered. "How's the good old lady?"

"She's pretty banged up, cowboy, but I can fix the warp engines in time.", said another voice on the intercom, which Raynor would recognize as Rory Swann, Chief Engineer of the _Hyperion._ "We sustained damage to Decks 9 through 15, though. It's a lost cause."

"Casualties?", Raynor inquired. Unlike other military leaders he came to know so well, he was one of those few who cared about the faces who died in service.

"Thirty-four.", Swann answered. "Thatcher and Reuben too."

Raynor recognized those two names. Thatcher was a mechanic and a close friend to practically everyone in the _Hyperion's_ Armory session, and Reuben was one of the few medical officers aboard.

"Annabelle? What happened?", Raynor asked, concerning the Armory mechanic.

"She was in Deck 11 when a freaking Zerg Acid Spore hit us hard. And we're already low on DefMat cover.", Swann answered, knowing what he was stating. Even though the ship's Defensive Matrix shield was powerful enough to sustain most hits, it was not invincible. And, out of most dangerous substances in the universes, Zerg acids and spores and bile were the most dangerous.

"We can't afford to delay, sir.", Horner urged. "Get fast to the base and board the Dropship."

"On it, Matt. Raynor out.", Raynor concluded, taking off his right hand and use it again to help carry Kerrigan easily. He then turned to his men behind him. "Alright, Raiders, six minutes to take-off and counting, MOVE YOUR ASSES!"

And so the band started jogging across the dark ash fields and towards Terran controlled ground.

* * *

**HYPERION BRIDGE, HIGH ORBIT ABOVE CHAR**

**ONE MINUTE LATER**

The bridge of the _Hyperion_ could easily be described as the deck of a modern-day naval frigate, albeit more decorated and highly technological compared to one. Green-screened futuristic computer terminals surrounded the walls and front window of the bridge, displaying navigational, communication, tactical assessment, weapons control, ground support and ship's general status systems. There was a seventh terminal, dedicated entirely to communicate in private with other ships when they didn't want so on the Star Map table nearby. The ground and walls had fused metal plates stuck accordingly close to one another like a jigsaw. On the roof, a giant circular light flare stood atop, providing light for the entire scene. However, if there was anything to be said, was the decor of the bridge, where the Star Map table was decorated with golden lines and it's borders had golden-metal wolf heads. More wolf heads could be seen on the upper walls of the bridge, atop the lines of the frontal viewing windows. The symbols of the Mengsk family.

For the _Hyperion_ held a story of Arcturus Mengsk's past prior to his ascension as the Emperor of the Terran Dominion. In the old days of the unchallenged Terran Confederacy, Mengsk was nothing more than a criminal. But a criminal with a vision of a different future. He was a revolutionary, obsessed with the defeat of the Old Families, whose oligarchy had put many colonies under a despotic rule. The fact that they attempted to quell the previous rebellion of Korhal with nuclear weaponry and lack of action in the beginning of the Zerg invasion four years ago did nothing but boost the support for Mengsk and the lust for Confederate blood. Many joined Mengsk with the hope that a new chance for a safe, free future would come.

It was all a lie. Mengsk only turned out to be the same monster as the Confederacy he fought so much against. Some, like Jim Raynor, could say he was worse. He didn't deliver his promises of freedom. Instead, he centralized all government towards his throne, proclaiming himself Emperor of all Terrans in the Koprulu Sector. He exerted a very tight control over the media, using it to praise himself and his rule as he declared Raynor a terrorist for deserting him. He continued to use the civilian and military resources from the Confederacy and the rest of the Sector as if they belonged to him, concentrating them in the primary core worlds without any concern for the needs of the people in the fringe worlds, who needed help the most, as they were the most exposed to Zerg and Protoss incursions. All and any political opposition against his rule was either 'dispatched' by his loyal hands in the Ghost Program or imprisoned in New Folsom, previously the most secure prison planet Man had ever known. Then, when the Zerg came, sparking the beginning of the Second Great War, he simply pulled back the Dominion Armada and performed little action against the Swarm while Raynor did all he could to aid the needs of colonists and refugees left to die.

"_Kaleb_ is deployed. ETA, six minutes and counting.", spoke Jessica Hall, communications officer sitting on the left terminal close to the viewing window.

"Good.", spoke a black-dressed officer in his thirties that apparently was the commander of the _Hyperion_'s bridge. His wearing seemed to be imposing authority, with golden-colored shoulder pauldrons and a decorative chest medal as was his black short haircut. His face seemed like that of a rich playboy who seemed to enjoy himself playing pirate. Such proof was the waist belt with the skull and two blades imaging pirate banners of ancient times and the boots somewhat unfit for a military officer he weared. He was Matt Horner, Raynor's friend, second-in-command of the Raiders and captain of the ship. Matt turned to an obese mature figure wearing glasses and orange mechanic uniform and with a mechanic wrench-shaped claw replacing his lost left arm. His face was old and beared a peculiar mustache, making him look like a future space dwarf. This man was Rory Swann, Chief Engineer of the _Hyperion._

"Swann, keep me informed when the warp engine is ready to kick in. I want it warm and ready to jump by the time Raynor's here.", Horner said.

"And you think I wanna stay any longer, playboy?", said Swann sarcastically, turning towards the bridge's access door. "On it.", he concluded. Shortly after Swann crossed the self-opening doors, Horner heard a beep that he would recognize as a hailing signal.

"Captain Horner, we have incoming comm.", spoke Hall, while tracking the origin of the caller. "From the _Bucephalu_s, sir."

"Put him through.", Horner ordered. Actually, he was wondering when the Crown Prince of the Dominion would call him, after the artifact worked it's magic. A transparent energy green interface appeared atop the Star Map, opening the live feed image of a blonde-haired person whose facial features would look like that of a prince in fairytale books. He wearied an official uniform of his own, with the distinct difference that it included a long red cape and the silver-clad shoulder pauldrons were decorated with golden-colored adornments, where the same chest medals Horner wearied featured wolf paws and the pauldron sides featured the wolf head of the Mengsk Dynasty. In a clear comparison, while Horner seemed dressed for a military naval operation, the blonde man seemed dressed for a social event.

"We just picked up the energy emission, Captain Horner", said Valerian Mengsk, son to the Emperor of the Dominion. "Did the artifact work?"

"Raynor says so.", answered Horner, coldly. "But we're not delivering her to any Dominion ship.", he added, referring about Kerrigan.

"Then lock on my beacon.", Valerian replied. "I know a few places outside my father's reach that we can help Kerrigan recover."

"Why should we trust you now, Valerian? Who assures me you won't turn Jim to your father?", asked Horner, suspiciously. Even though Valerian did nothing as of yet, he beared the name Mengsk, a name synonymous with terror, violence and, most importantly, _betrayal._ Even with all the proof otherwise, the infamous _'Like father, like son'_ saying could apply to Valerian at any moment.

"You have no choice. By now he must be on his way here.", Valerian replied, maintaining his calm and referring to his 'dearly-loved' father. "Besides, the moment he sees her, he'll likely kill her on the spot and deny all I've done here. I'm not letting my father ruin the only chance for recognition I've had so far."

"Is that about your quest to become a '_better man'_, as you so talk much about?", Horner replied, sarcastically. Valerian didn't like the answer.

"My father has been on the most terrible habit of usurping my work and using it for his own benefit. I'm not letting him do it with this one. Where ever Kerrigan goes, I go. Or you can try your way around the Sector, with the Dominion on your tail and my father spreading to the media that Raynor has Kerrigan and refuses to surrender her for trial. Your reputation would be vaporized and every mercenary and bounty hunter will be helping him sweep the sector for your ship.", he explained, a bit upset with Horner's statement.

Horner thought seriously about it. Valerian had a point, saying that Raynor's reputation could fall if he tried his chances. It took some time to build up his reputation as an outcast hero amongst the masses of the Sector. The fact that he'd be sheltering a mass murderess to the public eye could make him as hated as the enemy he harbored, even for the right reasons. And if Raynor's reputation fell, so would all and any credibility with the rest of the Raiders.

"Well?", asked Valerian, interrupting Horner's thought.

"I'm thinking it over."

* * *

**DOMINION CONTROLLED FRONTLINE, CHAR**

"Anyone of you wanting to bust me now, now's the time.", commented Raynor, looking at the scene in front of him.

"And what, getting shot by you? Hell no, boss!", answered Kaylee Bruener, apparently of the few woman Marines who could serve in the frontlines, and one in service to Raynor at the right time.

Raynor wanted to laugh, but made effort not to, so as not to be seen or heard. For a hero wearing a black Marine armor, it was bizarre that he'd have to hide behind some rocks like a kid hiding behind bushes, when the people who'd see him would praise him for all he's done in the latest hours.

Still, it wasn't with himself he was concerned about, but Kerrigan. It was obvious no one would let her out of the planet, not without the proper escort. And, as Horner graciously pointed out, even General Warfield could not restrain them, should they see the murderess of millions whom, just a few moments ago, advanced viciously towards Terran lines and compromised resistance, leaving gaps open for streams of Zerg monsters to advance forward and butcher all Terran stragglers.

The initial run back to the frontline wasn't easy. As if the maze of corridors wasn't enough to put pressure on Raynor's timing, there were still pockets of Zerg resistance in the form of the brown flea-like Zerglings or Hydralisks, snake-like creatures with scythe-like arms and over-extending heads akin to triceratops from the prehistoric ages that could fire extremely fast spikes, strong enough to penetrate Neosteel armor. One time or two they had to cease their running and get to cover because of strafing runs made by feral Mutalisks, worm-like Zerg with the curvature of a scorpion's tail that hoarded two giant bat-like wings, making them capable of flying. Raynor was forced to have his men do the fighting for him, as he couldn't shoot and carry Kerrigan at the same time. For a time or two he nearly tripped on his feet and dropped Kerrigan. At the pace he was running, Kerrigan would have been well awake and complaining about it, but she was too unconscious from the blast of the Xel'Naga artifact and her body's extremely tired state demanded she fell asleep, regardless of what was going on to her and around her. Even with blunt force applied, she wouldn't wake. Not now. Still, while the run was rough, he managed to arrive with his princess, but had to go to hiding because of the Dominion personnel.

The frontline Raynor was looking at was literally crowded with Dominion personnel, red-colored Marines walking and roaming around as they either stood guard, carried supply crates to other places or were helping other people not on Marine armor with heavy duty. Not only these, but he also could see heavier machine guns installed along the dug-up then walled in trench, bipedal mechanoids with rotary autocannons called Vikings and deployed machines with their cannons always facing above in a diagonal, meaning they were deployed Siege Tanks, futuristic mechanized vehicles who could deploy into stationary artillery batteries. Also, in an above plateau, he could see a couple of small robot-like power suits, the Space Construction Vehicles, or SCVs for short, using their on-board jet engines to hover around as they performed repair operations on a fortification that was a Bunker, where infantry could shelter from the hazards of warfare in the open and unleash their payloads on encroaching enemies. Afar, a giant tower with twin missile launchers kept watch over the skies. Raynor would easily recognize that as a Missile Turret.

Raynor's sight then shifted from the plateau to below it, where he began to see some ships landed. One, in particular, seemed like a futuristic helicopter, with two fan turbines that could lift it up and down vertically, as it's cockpit was simplistic and hoarded two rocket launcher batteries on it's sides. The other ship however, was of a sleek design, with two wings bending downwards in a sad face arc, each with a rocket engine bolted below it, but carrying a square cargo bay on it's belly. A Dropship. That would be Raynor's ship he was looking for, were not for the fact that it was colored red and white, being a Dominion property.

"Sir, look! The _Kaleb_!", spoke Mason, pointing above towards a black-colored vessel looking akin to the one Raynor was looking at. His ride home was coming and was touching down fast. The two rocket engines strapped to a turnable joint on it's tail part spinned until the engine's everlasting flame was facing the ground, and then the Dropship started coming down. Raynor signaled his men to prepare themselves to run. Side plating bursted out of the sides of the square cargo bay, with it's extending arms turning and twisting themselves to become landing gear.

"Let's move!", Raynor shouted, holding Kerrigan as tight as he could as the group started running like if Armageddon arrived, all towards the black Dropship as it landed and opened the doors to it's cargo bay. It was obvious people would see him, as would Kerrigan, but he didn't give a damn. There was only a window of opportunity, and he was going to take it. He had to.

One of the Dominion Marines, Private Cormack Rhys, had finished putting an ammunition crate on the ground when he saw Raynor moving. Close to him was his driking partner in wee nightly hours, Private Wasley Macko.

"Hey, why's Raynor running, the battle-", Rhys started speaking to Macko, but stopped when he saw what he was carrying. Or better, who. "**THE QUEEN OF BLADES!**", he shouted out loud. That was enough for Macko and anyone close to the duo look towards Rhys and then at Raynor.

"**THE BITCH!** Where's he taking her!?", also shouted another Marine, this time being Corporal Tripps Ashburn.

"Get them! Don't let them get away!", shouted a larger figure, in a black armor that was bulkier and larger than a marine, with an even larger backpack strapped behind him. But, unlike the Marine's astronaut-like helmet, this one had a helmet akin to a comic-book robot, with two glowing orange eyes and two LED screens where the mouth should be. That was Reckler Nabholtz, a Dominion trooper hoarding a 5-4 Armored Infantry Suit. He was a Marauder, a man meant to deliver the appropriate blow to the larger enemies with his twin Quad K12 _"Punisher"_ grenade launchers, one on each arm.

With all the screaming and all prying eyes focused on Raynor and the other running Raider marines, like in a Saturday cartoon, everyone started running towards and after them, all hoping to catch Raynor and the prize he was ferrying to the ship that just landed, doubtless his escape ride. One of them, however, Sergeant Frolik, has only reloaded the clip of his gray-metal, square-shaped C-14 _"Impaler"_ Gauss Rifle and aimed it towards Raynor.

"Raynor! Put her down, now!", Frolik shouted, but it was too late. Raynor and his men actually reached the black dropship and boarded the entrance.

"Lift off, lift off! GO! GO! GO!", Raynor shouted in a frantic way as the _Kaleb's_ cargo doors began to close. One of the Marines, Private Kristos, tried to climb the closing doors and board the Dropship, but Mason got in first and kicked him out in the finest Spartan fashion possible. Kristos simply fell with his back on the ground as the Kaleb's cargo hold fully closed, and the rocket engines bursted an a wail of fire. Dust and smoke spread out as the Dropship took off to an altitude the Marines couldn't reach, and started flying away towards the low orbit. On the ground, only one dared say something.

"Warn General Warfield! Now!", shouted Sergeant Frolik as the black Dropship vanished into the beyond.

Inside the _Kaleb,_ heavy breathing was heard by practically everyone, even Raynor. That running was a little too close to comfort, even with Raynor running like a thief who happened to steal a loaf of bread to satiate his hunger. They could've been caught and taken to the brig while Kerrigan would be put somewhere else until Warfield said otherwise. Then, the Emperor would finally have his victory delivered to him in a silver platter. Even so, they managed to reach the Dropship and start flying away back to the _Hyperion._ Back to their home, where they knew Kerrigan would be safe the most.

Raynor, sat in one of the benches especially designed to accommodate Marines and their CMC-300 Powered Combat Suit, delivered Kerrigan to Bruener, where the lady held her in her arms while Raynor activated his intercom.

"Matt, we've done it!", said Raynor in a stressful voice, still recovering from the running. "We're in the _Kaleb_ and coming in hot, prep for the _Hyperion_ for warp now!"

"Roger, sir, we're gonna be ready.", readily answered Horner on the other side. A while passed before Horner continued, although between pauses, showing hesitation on what he was going to tell next. "Uh, sir... There's just this little thing... Valerian is coming with us."

"_Junior!?_", Raynor said, surprised and his eyes wide open. He took a while to get over it. "Whatever, we'll talk that later, let's get this done with."

Raynor shut down the intercom, getting Kerrigan back into his arms. He only looked at her, asleep like a girl who woke up after a terrible, terrible nightmare. A nightmare that lasted for nearly five years, he could say so.

* * *

Afar, in the Dominion Battlecruiser _Wrath_, the local captain, Lilith Daniels, gazed at the fiery red planet that was Char. A giant ball of ash and fire that came to be the enbodiment of Hell for every Terran in the Koprulu Sector because of the Zerg. If a nuclear holocaust could be possible, the Dominion would have done so, but it could not, because the Zerg, no matter how many you'd kill, many more would always return.

Outside the planet, debris and wreckage of ships that once formed the proud, hammerhead shaped _Minotaur_-class Battlecruisers loomed above, directionless and moved only by the vacuum of space and it's lack of gravity. Many of them still reeked and dripped of Zerg acid, that corroded reactive armor and destroyed the heaviest of ships with time. By far, it had been the most difficult battle the Dominion ever faced. Once, five years ago, the Dominion attempted a direct assault with it's entire fleet, but they have failed then, and under the leadership of Arcturus Mengsk. Lilith remembered that. She'd seen it. Wave after wave of Mutalisks, Scourges and other flying Zerg strains surrounding the Dominion fleet and others. The numbers too many to handle. Many died that day, from crew members to turret gunners and surface teams sent to destroy the nests breeding more and more of those god-forsaken beast aliens.

And now here she was again, but this time the plan Prince Valerian had conceived miraculously worked. This time, the beasts' wretched Queen had fallen and the Swarm's threat to the Koprulu Sector had been removed. And with half the fleet. This time, it's the Dominion holding all the cards now. The fleet was able to install a full blockade over Char to prevent anything from coming out or coming in without the Armada's notice. It was a day Lilith had been waiting five years to see.

But then she'd seen something peculiar. She's seen two Battlecruisers going out of Char through warp jump. Why? She didn't know.

But when she heard through the radio channels on the surface the former Queen of Blades escaped to the Hyperion, and that the vessel would leave Char, that's when she knew. By then, it was too late.

There was no telling where the _Hyperion_ went. And even if someone knew... It was sure to be far away, now.

* * *

And... This is it.

As I stated in the Disclaimer chapter, this undergoes against and contrary to the story set in _Flashpoint,_ if you read the Thatcher part, thus, invalidating the book. I personally confess that _Flashpoint _wasn't too attractive either, but it was, to a league, acceptable if compared to official HotS, with an exception of a few bizarrely awkward parts, like making Prince Valerian a guy who can stand for himself in a fight, is fully aware of Zeratul's _'End of the World'_ prophecy (One of the major plotholes I've seen so far in StarCraft II as a whole), disguise himself as a monkey-wrench person in Deadman's port, or having capable command skills. While there is something to be said on his military capability, as his required military strategic exercising demands out of potential people to sequel state leaders, what was done in _Flashpoint_ can be said was a bit too much. That and the fight scenes, which I'll try to rectify on later chapters, save for larger, army-scaled battles, which I'll try to resume it in an acceptable manner.

In my own defense, this Fan Fiction invalidates the novel, not because it wants to, but because it must. Here, the events and timespan will shift very quickly and very differently from what was seen in Golden's work. While HotS starts ten days after Wings of Liberty, this will begin on the spot. On the ground slate clean. Also, HotS assumes Kerrigan is very well aware of what she did and when, here I'll be working assuming Kerrigan doesn't remember her deeds as the Queen of Blades. This indeed seems upsetting and a bit outrageous, especially if considering her deeds in Brood War, but this is the only way, the way I see it, and, judging by the way the writing is proceeding, is going far more acceptable than what Metzen did, that she knows what she did and accepts it like_ 'What the hell, done's done anyways'_.

I know this hurts, but I also stated this is a Fan Fiction, and, as such, it can't be taken seriously. But at least it won't try to offend people's intelligence and memories as the official lines did, this is a promise I'm SERIOUSLY taking to heart.

Any criticism can be posted on the Review section, as well as comments and arguing, or even questions related to the things to be changed here. Unless I have a reason not to, I'll answer the questions.

Next week, I'll be covering the true beginning, which will be the Umojan installation, and with a name you can guess, but I can tip it's one you'll relate to science-fiction work. Try and take a guess.


	3. Chapter I - Checking In

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER I - CHECKING IN**

* * *

**PLANET PHAETON, UMOJAN PROTECTORATE**  
**UMOJAN RESEARCH FACILITY 'VERHOEVEN' - CLASSIFIED**  
**TWENTY-FOUR HOURS AFTER THE BATTLE FOR CHAR**

If one unsuspecting person were to see the interiors of an Umojan science facility, he or she would imagine diving deep inside an antique science fiction movie, like _2001: A Space Odyssey_ or _THX-1138._ Especially because most of the facility was colored in an unnatural pearl white.

The corridors of the white facility seemed endless. Wall panel after wall panel of white colored plates with futuristic details surrounded the two walls and the roof of the facility. The roof itself only had some groups of white LED bulbs to provide the needed lightning. The floor was either gray metal, tiled in tiny circles or an endless red carpet, too long even for movie stars. Blue energy lines and lights filled the details of the installation, as well as the blue holographic screens in some of the consoles installed in the facility.

Of course, such details were amazing at first, but then would be ignored gradually over time. Then, no one who was working in a normal day would even notice the walls. But then, today was not a normal day.

It was supposed to be, when the Chief of Medicine delivered the news that caused shock and uproar amongst it's workforce: On a covert agreement with the Crown Prince of the Dominion, the facility would house the former Queen of Blades and aid in her recovery towards human standards. There were many that, although they were reserved, didn't like the news. Not one bit. Firstly because Kerrigan should have been delivered to trial, and on a facility under heavy guard and control of the Dominion. Secondly because, obviously, this agreement was done on the backs of the Emperor of the Dominion himself, meaning his son was acting against the interests of his father and his government who'd search for her. This would not only get the Dominion to invade the facility, should they know where it is, but would also compromise research vital to the Protectorate. In any stance, everyone would lose.

It was quite a crowd, reunited at the access door that separated the facility from the landing area, fit for Dropships and the larger _Hercules-_class transports. The door itself was a dark gray with white cube plating, like the panel walls of the corridors. In the center, stood a luminous blue cylinder. Below it, in one of the plates, lied the symbol of the Umojan Protectorate. Three white triangles distributed in an almost equal harmony, forming a Y triad, overcome by a black triad of the same distributed triangles, although inversed. Alongside the opposing triads, ran along a black wheel-like circle.

The crowd gathering near this particular access door mostly weared white or a very lighter gray clothing, some wearing jacket coats and others not, but still, most were doctors and scientists working on the facility, and all of those were called to work on the particular case of the former Queen of Blades. Both men and women had their faces and heads covered with clothing garment, some wearing ocular headsets, others using a breathing mask, others wearing an earpiece. A few of them were using all of those. All apart from two persons who weren't using anything at all at their heads, leaving their faces exposed. But those were only the scientists, for a group of four Umojan Marines had also been called to participate in the security of that particular event.

The Umojan Marine's armor design was an entirely different one compared to one used by many other groups in the Koprulu Sector. While it could be said something of it's format, it seemed even more advanced and capable of some tricks even the Umojan's rivals in the Kel-Morian Combine didn't know about. Energy lines circled across the torso armor piece, along the head part which was fused with the chest piece, thus obviously immobile, unlike the flexible astronaut-like helmets of other CMC-300 suits, meaning the Umojan Marine would have to turn his entire body to look around his surroundings. Instead of a large light bulb piece in each part of the lens flare's section of the torso, there were three small fluorescent light bulbs distributed like a triangle. On the shoulder piece, unlike a single covering metal shoulder, stood three separate cylinders installed on the extremities of the shoulder, each of them white with a cyan-blue neon light. The lower parts were somewhat akin to the design of other suits, with the exception of the foot armor, that seemed more squared in contrast to the spherical designed ones. Still, apart from the radical design, the suit somewhat provided the same level of protection as any other Marine suit used in the Koprulu Sector. Perhaps even a better level. The only common ground between the Marines of the Umojan Protectorate and the rest is that they all used the same C-14 Gauss Rifle.

Of course, as stated earlier, many gathered there didn't complain, but didn't like it either. But some, like the young man wearing a white coat, seemingly on his mid-twenties, with a short black hair, were quite explicit in their protests. Of course, the older, mature scientist on his thirties, also with a black hair, but shorter than the young one, didn't mind. The boy was always a hot-head.

"I can't believe it. Bringing the mother of monsters to here, out of all places! Is he out of his mind!?", spoke the young scientist.

"That's not up to you to question him. Leave the protests to me.", said the older scientist.

"Yeah, right, Stratton! He may be the Crown Prince, but we have some serious and delicate research going on. If the Protectorate finds out, it's everyone's head on the gallow!", said the young man, doubtless angry. This didn't change the older scientist's mood.

"She can deliver us research which was exclusive to the Confederacy, Braxton. Plus, with her remainder of her previous life, the biology she can deliver may be beneficial medical science, in a near future.", spoke Stratton, the older scientist.

"Really? And the fact _'it'_ has slaughtered eight billion with the pet army _'it'_ has and not to mention _'it's'_ powers and even the _goddamn hair_ say NOTHING to you?", asked young Braxton, sarcastically. "Call it whatever you want, I call it suicide. I'm tempted to just call in the Dominion Fleet and risk my job than my neck!", he threatened.

"Actually... Crown Prince Valerian is holding the cards. He has the Dominion Fleet with him.", spoke Stratton, with a little bit of humour in it.

"Really? With Pappy Mengsk's approval? I find it hard to believe!", asked Braxton, sarcastically.

Then, a loud click was heard as yellow arrow holograms pointing up appeared in the middle of the door and the door itself started opening, like the mouth of a giant beast. The second layer of the access door, exposed after the first layer opened, started also opening to the sides, demonstrating the level of security enemies would have to breach if an invasion ever occurred in the science facility. By the time the second layer opened, the visitors on the other side could be seen.

A group of six armored Marines in red-clad armor surrounding a bed-like table that had no wheels at all. Instead, this table had an anti-gravity generator that could be pushed around without the worry of bumping into any ground features on the floor. The person on the table was doubtless a naked female, and with nothing covering her body but a single cyan blue sheet. She would seem human, were not for the fact her hair denounced her: Brown bone-like tendrils that were a testimony of her other self. The Queen of Blades.

On the left side of the men walking towards the crowd, lied two persons. One of them weared a social outfit, with silver clad shoulder pauldrons with a long red cape and a black suit, while the other wore a clothing akin to the american cowboys of the 21st Century. A white T-shirt with a dark brown sweater, whose front flaps make room for some canister shotgun shells and smoke grenades of a sort. Dark blue jeans and a pair of knee-length combat boots, while his waist hoards two belts, one for his pants, another a holster for his custom pistol, predating the days of the old Confederacy. Tatoos covered both of his arms, as do so the fingerless black gloves with his hands. A yellow triangle can be seen on each glove as well as a red cigarette pack on his left shoulder, stuck in a fold of his T-shirt.

Braxton stayed shut as Stratton stepped forward to greet Valerian Mengsk and Jim Raynor, the latter now off his battle armor. The Dominion Marines kept moving forward a little bit, but stopped when Valerian started his conversation with the Chief of Medicine.

"Doctor Stratton. We meet again.", cordially greeted Valerian.

"Valerian.", Stratton said, with a smirk on his face. He briefly looks at the unconscious Kerrigan and then back at Valerian. "I suppose that's the favor I'll pay back for you."

"After I funded your military research in nano-medicine, you mean?", asked Valerian, seeming somewhat insulted with the question. "I actually liked the initial results in the Tyrador Science Covention, truth be told, but... Yes, let's call it a favor, if you'd like. Now, what can you do for our patient?"

"Well, that will remain to be seen, especially after the tests are performed...", started Stratton, but, after he said the _'tests'_ word, Valerian interrupted him. In response to this word, Raynor once focusing on Sarah, started looking at Stratton with an unfriendly look.

"What kind of tests?", Valerian asked.

Stratton simply eyeballed Valerian head on.

"You may not like it, or especially your friend, but she's running a full regimen.", Stratton said, briefly gazing at Raynor. "That's my only condition she's staying here."

Raynor started walking towards Stratton.

"You better not abuse, for your sake, Doc.", Raynor said, with a calm, yet threatening tone. "She's not a guinea pig. She's a person."

"Really now, she is?", a voice shouted out loud, that caught both Valerian, Raynor and Stratton's attention. It came from Braxton, stepping forward and looking at the trio with an air of defiance. "I even doubt you can call that _thing_ a 'she'-"

"Braxton!", interrupted Stratton, but the young man didn't stop.

"-especially with the record _'it's'_ got!", he finalized. Raynor simply walked towards him, until they were close to one another, like two arena fighters on the verge of a fight.

"Good to know someone doesn't agree.", Raynor said, facing him, but it didn't change Braxton's move. "Means I can keep an eye on him."

"Honestly, Raynor, I don't know why the hell you didn't shoot her, yet.", Braxton said. "Nor did one of your men. If it's not something personal, then I don't know what the hell it is."

"If it's any explanation, boy, it is personal.", Raynor stated.

"Then I'd keep my _'personal business'_ on the leash if I were you.", Braxton replied, in a rude manner. "I'm just so tempted to call in the Dominion right now."

Raynor didn't think twice. He unholstered his pistol and simply pointed it at Braxton's forehead.

"And how can I be sure you didn't already, the moment you knew?", Raynor threatened, but this also didn't scare Braxton. Instead the boy simply motioned his left hand, showing it to Raynor if he was holding a peanut.

"I'm **_this_ **close, Raynor. Remember that.", Braxton said, defiantly. However, the six barrels of what seemed like a minigun touched Braxton's back. The young scientist turned around to see the Marine holding it. A Dominion soldier, of African-american color, looking ugly at Braxton too.

"Too bad you're second in line, pencil neck.", said the Dominion soldier. "I've already threatened him on killing her if she's ain't not on leash."

"Sergeant Reamer!", censored Valerian. The man named Reamer simply lowered the minigun cannon. Braxton simply looked at it, shrugged his forehead, then stared at Reamer.

"Still too small, if you ask me.", commented Braxton. Then he started walking away. "But I'll remember you.", he added.

"If you gentlemen are done, we'd like to get to work!", said Valerian once Braxton walked past Reamer, clearly out of his patience. "Not everyone has a lenient schedule in here, and it won't be long before we're found. Stratton, let's do this."

With this line finished, everyone started walking along the corridor, all accompanying Kerrigan and the table she was at until they reached another access door, akin to the one that opened moments ago.

"Open the door.", ordered Stratton, and so it opened.

The room it revealed this time, however, was a circular one and not well illuminated. The only thing that was revealed was the apparent central bed, which seemed not so comfortable due to the apparent lack of couch. The only comfortable part, apparently, was where Kerrigan would rest her head. Other than that, not so much could be seen on the room, but some of the shadows could be noticed, and those made Raynor a bit nervous. For those shadows were of extending robotic arms carrying syringes filled with some substance he could not recognize. Yet, he preferred not to look at those for long and returned his focus at Kerrigan. Two of the Umojan scientists stepped forward to get Kerrigan's body and transfer her from the hover table to the central bed.

"Everyone's a critic.", Raynor commented, talking about Braxton and his previous comment.

"Can't blame him, brother. Just like my boys.", said Reamer. "And, Doc, can you put up some security in here? You know, sentry guns and all that stuff?"

"_In your dreams, Reamer!_", exclaimed Raynor, not liking Reamer's request.

"I agreed to keep my mouth shut and that of my men, Raynor. I'm no snitch, but I'm not risking their lives, either. I at least demand some insurance policy.", Reamer explained. "She might tear the whole building apart for all I know!"

Raynor wanted to talk back at Reamer, but he had a point. Ever since the artifact fired and restored Kerrigan to her former self, nothing happened, but he wasn't sure of what was going to happen if she woke up. Instead, he simply walked closer to kerrigan, and said it out so people could hear, although nicely.

"If there's still any of you left, Sarah, then please, listen to me.", he started. People just looked at him. "In the morning those men will activate the sentry guns, whether you're back... or not."

He simply turned around to then see Reamer. And then Braxton, who was standing at the door, just watching the scene. Raynor simply started to walk out of the room.

"Satisfied, Reamer?", asked Raynor, looking at the Dominion Sergeant and then at Braxton. "And what of you, boy?"

Braxton didn't change his look. He simply turned around and started leaving. Then he scoffed his final word on the matter.

_"We'll see..."_

* * *

**IN HIGH ORBIT...**

Afar, outside the _Verhoeven_ facility, Phaeton's desert seemed endless. An endless torrent of yellow sand as the sandstorms occur periodically through out most of the day. Other than that, what mattered was the geometry. Cliffs, rocks, crevices, all covered by the sand. In orbit, it all seemed serene, a mere globe of yellow sand only decorated with white clouds and the blue atmospheric globe, showing Phaeton as a breathable planet, by Terran's standards.

A planet that was covered by the orange nebula decorating the space behind the planet. A planet that was being warmed by the yellow incandescent sun, somewhat afar from the planet to avoid overheating it.

A planet that now had a creature coming closer to it. A baloon-like creature that featured bone-white spikes alongside it's scaled carapace body, six insect-like legs and two crab-like arms. The head, also akin to an insect, hoarded a pair of antennae, a mandible and eight eyes. On the sides, two giant red-colored gas blobs, that endlessly unleashed some gas smoke from outside it, that allowed to steer through out the void of space.

A planet that was under the watch of a single Zerg Overlord. Some would say it'd be something peculiar. But for those who could see it, a single Zerg being, however small it is, is never a good sign. It means the Swarm, or at least a part of it, has an interest on that planet.

In that case, Phaeton.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

He simply stood there. He didn't know for how long he stood there, but he didn't care. He simply stood in that chair, attached to the wall, looking to the ground like a husband or a father awaiting the news of his loved one's condition in a hospital. But Jim Raynor didn't need to wait to know how the girl he rescued on Char was, he already knew. He was simply waiting. In the meanwhile, he was reflecting. Reflecting on everything that happened so far and what brought him to his point.

He still could remember the day he first met Sarah Kerrigan. He didn't start so long after he was released by Arcturus Mengsk and his Sons of Korhal and he already met the girl he'd come to know, on the border world of Antiga Prime. He could still remember how Kerrigan felt disgusted at the first thoughts he had the moment he met her, and this made the former rebel laugh a little bit about it later. But it was only one of the few good memories he had.

The remainder of the memories concerning Kerrigan were not pleasant for human eyes and ears. He could still remember the day he left Mengsk, when he simply refused to rescue her and left her to die on Tarsonis, where Kerrigan was surrounded by a massive Zerg force. He could still see the blood lying close to her C-20A Canister Rifle, a Terran weapon akin to those utilized by special units in the 21st century, with a scope and laser target, on the time he went with a rescue squadron. He could remember how much he cried that day, and the anger that built up as he deserted the Sons of Korhal. He could remember seeing Kerrigan again, this time on Char, but no longer human. Instead she now was a personification of a succubus of ancient legends, becoming a lieutenant for the Zerg. He could remember how she dared turn on Raynor after all he'd done for her, and how it cost the life of an alien comrade. He could still remember the nightmares of him, laying helpless, watching the Queen of Blades dragging Kerrigan to be butchered by the Zerg masses, or heading towards Raynor to kill him, with the folk unable to do something by some force of nature.

"Raynor?", a voice interrupted Raynor's thoughts, making him look above and see Valerian looking to him. "Has she seen you?", Valerian asked.

"Who?", Raynor asked, not knowing of whom Valerian was talking about.

"Sarah?", Valerian asked in return. Raynor looked stranged at Valerian. "The medical team just opened the doors to start their work and she just... disappeared."

Raynor widened his eyes.

"What!?", he said, getting up from the chair.

Valerian motioned Raynor to come with him to the doors of Kerrigan's room. As they arrived, Raynor only saw that crowd beholding the scene. Amongst them was Stratton and Reamer, but no sign of Braxton anywhere. Raynor simply looked at the empty bed at the center with nothing but the cyan blue sheet used to cover Kerrigan.

"The bed has been like this since we opened up.", explained Stratton.

"You think she's cloaked, Doc?", asked Reamer, looking at the scene.

"I doubt so, that suit we wore her in wasn't programmed for cloaking without equipment.", answered Stratton, also looking at the scene. "And we didn't have any breach, and the door is intact. There are also motion sensors in the vents and alarms in the windows. She couldn't have just got out without us knowing."

"Then... _How did she get out?_", asked Valerian, although he got no answer to the question.

Everyone simply looked to the room for some time until Raynor broke the silence.

"I might have a clue.", he said. "Leave us alone."

"Jim, I'm not sure-", Valerian started, but Raynor interrupted.

"Junior. Alone. Now.", Raynor said, in a warning tone. Valerian simply nodded and Stratton motioned everyone to leave, which they all did. With the scene clear, Raynor entered the dark room and walked towards the empty bed. He stared for a moment at the bed's surface until something told him to look to the right. There he could see a series of moving yellow power lines. Some would say it is some loose electric coupling from the facility, but Raynor knew better.

"How you're feeling?", Raynor asked to the lights. It's when they started bending themselves to allow a head to come out into the light. A head filled with tendril-like hair that looked at Raynor in the eye, with two tired green pupils.

"Like a bug, Jimmy.", answered Sarah Kerrigan, having finally awaken from all that happened to her.

* * *

The void of space was simply endless and black, with stars providing the luminance. Into this endless eternity one could look and wonder for ages about the extension of life, death, eternity and many other questions. But the one watching it didn't have to think about any of it. It's thought was clear. It's opinions were clear. It was simply watching. Waiting.

Waiting for the time to come. The time when it would make itself clear to the entire universe as a harbringer of a new age. It was when a glow catched it's eye on the horizon. A glow of the first sign that it's time would come.

_"It begins."_, the thought said.

* * *

"Couldn't they have given me a better Ghost suit?", asked an upset Sarah Kerrigan, with Jim Raynor in a tight annex bathroom to the containment cell where she was. "The outline of this one makes me look like a _cyber-hooker._ I ought to slap the pervert who designed it.", she commented, picking up a wire-chained Umojan head wear and reared her head, sticking it in an attempt to make a ponytail out of the already messed alien hair. Apart from a few tendrils here and there, the rest stuck quite well.

Raynor couldn't do anything but smirk at her comment. But she was somewhat right at what she said, he thought, even though Kerrigan was an assassin, not a fashion designer.

The suit Kerrigan wore was obviously highly technological and tight, with outlines separating the white and gray colors and that attempted to cover as much of her feminine frame as possible. The suit didn't seem to have any buttons, ziper or any features that she could open to put the suit out if she were to have a shower, that covered Kerrigan from her foot toes to her very neck. Yellow power lines could be seen amongst the length of her torso, neck and waist. Her foot wear seemed to be separate between her thumb and the rest of her toes. Two tiny shoulder pieces extended from her suit, trying to give her a different shape. Yet, Kerrigan didn't care about those, but the fact the gray colored piece of her waist extended in a manner that looked she was wearing a swimsuit, both in front and behind, especially her buns, although the front was considerably even more shorter, almost reaching to her private area.

The bathroom itself wasn't so much. Although there were metal details in the upper walls and the roof, with a single white bulb providing light, the rest was practically tiled, from lower wall to floor. Amongst the appliances that could be seen in the bathroom, stood a simple water sink with a mirror window, a toilet, and a separate box with a shower where Kerrigan could bathe herself. While Kerrigan was by the sink, Raynor simply stood there by the wall, close to the door.

"Well, they never promised fashioned clothing in the first place.", Raynor commented, staring at the beauty Kerrigan looked at that suit. Kerrigan, being a telepath, could see what was in his mind, but she didn't care. She already had much to worry about as of now than the desirious thoughts of a frontline grunt, even if he was the man who rescued her like the knight in shining armor he was.

"How did you find me, Jim?", Kerrigan asked, not turning around to face him, only staring at her reflexion in the mirror. "After New Gettysburg, I thought you thought I died."

Raynor simply looked at her.

"Yeah, I did.", Raynor answered. "But then you called out for me on Char. I thought you were still alive and I followed. It was when I found out the Zerg made you their rockstar. Their princess."

"So it explains _this._", Kerrigan said, referring to her hair. Then, she looked down, at the sinkhole. "How much did the Zerg advance? After what happened to me?"

"The Saras, Tyrador, Meinhoff, not to mention the wreckage you did in Protoss space.", explained Raynor, counting only a few of the battles the Zerg have got into over the last five years. "They suffered as much as many blows as we did on our side."

"Good to know.", said Kerrigan in an almost monotone voice. She let out a small sigh as she only stared at the sinkhole in front of her eyes. Raynor laid off from the wall and got on his feet.

"You don't remember, Sarah?", Raynor asked, looking somewhat worried at her. "What happened next? What you did? Any of it?"

"No.", Kerrigan answered. "It was a nightmare, Jim. A nightmare where you can't simply wake up from. I couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything. All I could see was dark. And blood. And fire. I didn't know what my body was doing."

Raynor did nothing but look at her. Then Kerrigan looked above in the mirror again and paused for a bit before unleashing a punch on it with her right hand, cracking the mirror in the process.

"_They could've at least left my hair alone while they were at it!_", commented Kerrigan, angry at the thought of whatever the Zerg could have done to her. Raynor walked towards her, trying to touch her shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Sarah.", Raynor said, in an attempt to comfort her.

"I know. It's Arcturus.", Kerrigan sadly answered. Apparently she didn't forget the person who started all that happened to her, meaning her memory loss was limited only to the period during her infestation. "And the moment I see him, we're having a little talk..."

That last line was what caught Raynor worried. He knew what she meant. She wanted to go after him, but he wouldn't let that, not now that he got her back after so much struggle.

"Forget Mengsk, Sarah. You don't have to go after him. Not now. Just leave him be.", Raynor said, embracing her. However, Sarah just turns around to face him.

"_Leave him be?_", asked Kerrigan, with an increasing nervous tone. "After this, Jim? After what he's done!? _I trusted him!_ I trusted he'd come to get me, but he left me to _rot!_", she added to then let out a deep sigh in sadness. "Maybe it IS my fault, Jim."

"Snap out of it, Sarah, I told you it's not!", Raynor said, growing pretty nervous too.

"You don't get it, Jim! You don't know it, you never have!", shouted Kerrigan, but she lowered her head as she made an effort to calm down. "I should've seen it, I should've known he'd get his chance, sooner or later.", she added.

Raynor, however, grew confused.

"What are you talking about?", he asked.

Kerrigan only raised her head to face Raynor in the eye.

"You know I wasn't always with the Sons of Korhal.", she started.

"Yeah, you were a Confederate Ghost, back then. What about it?", he asked, remembering he'd known where she come from and how she came to be.

In the past, the Ghosts were the most dangerous weapon ever conceived by the defunct Confederacy. Psionic assassins equipped with the finest technology, meant to be a message to the Confederacy's opponents that the Old Families, the oligarchic elite, were strong and indisputable and they would remain this way. Undergoing an inhuman mental and physical training, these feared warriors had been the turning point for the Confederate victory against the Kel-Morian Combine in the Guild Wars.

Kerrigan was one such Ghost. Born with powers she never asked for and that cost everything a normal child was entitled to, like family and a normal life, she was "adopted" by the Ghost Program as to use her powers for a 'higher cause'. A cause that demanded she killed, destroyed and shattered apart everything she touched. What would come for her when she was taken from her home in TarKossia would be forever reminded as the worst memories of her life. While normal girls played with dolls and toy kitchen appliances, she was being trained at killing people with knives and guns at her fifteens. While normal girls worked a partial job as secretaries, teachers or medics, Kerrigan only counted the hours for the next assignment, the next target to kill. While normal girls had families and boyfriends, all she had for friends were her comrades in the Ghost Academy and her superior officers who'd rather boss her around, no matter if she accomplished her assignment or not.

That was all before she was rescued by him. By Arcturus Mengsk. By the Sons of Korhal who'd promised her a different life than the one she'd grown used to. A life where she could choose where to go, when to go, and how to go. A life where she could choose who to be. A life of freedom. She'd come to something that made her feel as something other than a tool. But, yet again, that was a promise in vain. For, because of a simple questioning, she was left behind to the Zerg. To become that which she fought so much against.

"You know that, before they nuked Korhal, the Confederacy tried to cut off the rebellion off at the head. By killing the Mengsk family.", explained Kerrigan.

"I heard the stories.", Raynor said. "They told the Old Families sent a unit to kill old Angus and send a message. But they decided to kill off the family to avoid any revenge course. They killed everyone in the family. Everyone but Arcturus."

Of course, the same would have occurred to the soon-to-be Emperor if he was together with the remainder of his family. But Arcturus, once a prospector, had been far, more concerned with gaining more and more power for himself while Angus remained on, believing in a better future. He inflamed the population of the once lush Korhal IV against the ever rising oppression of the Confederacy, stomping out the welfare of it's citizenry to sustain the decadence of the Old Families. Of course, the Confederates didn't like that. When the order to assassinate Angus Mengsk didn't do any effect, instead inciting the population even harder towards anti-Confederate sentiment, the Confederacy resorted to extreme methods: A thousand Apocalypse-class nuclear warheads were deployed in orbit, provoking a planetary genocide that turned the lush Korhal into a radioactive desert.

"I was there Jim.", Kerrigan said. "I _was_ in the unit. I _killed_ those people. I cut Angus' head off and delivered it to my superiors."

Raynor gradually widened his eyes altered his face with one mix of suprise, shock and horror. In the end, new truths came booming in his head, in light of the revelations told to him. The decision to abandon Kerrigan in Tarsonis, the war against the Confederacy, everything Mengsk did in his days as a revolutionary... _It was all for revenge._ Not only for father, but for whole family. Mengsk only found the perfect opportunity, for an execution or killing on the spot was simply too easy and not satisfying. And all along, he'd been concerned with a girl he thought she had a spark of innocence.

"Why- _why didn't you tell me?_", Raynor asked, almost incapable of finding words to fit a phrase. "I would've understood!"

"Would you?", asked Kerrigan, turning back to the sink and the broken mirror. "Back then, when you and Mengsk were close?"

Raynor wanted to say something, but she had a point concerning that. Raynor did believe in Arcturus, since he was released from that goddamn prison ship, four years ago. He believed in him when the Confederacy didn't, arresting him when he did something concerning the Zerg invasion in the colony of Mar Sara.

Back then, Raynor was nothing more than a local colony Marshall, helping to upkeep law and order amongst the few citizenry, working at the mines and outposts and trading stations there. When the Zerg first appeared, while the Confederacy did absolutely nothing at all to aid the masses, Raynor launched an attack at an infested colony at Backwater Station. However, while the population rescued from the horrors of the Zerg praised Raynor for his decisive actions, the Confederacy arrested him for _'destroying Confederate property'_. This clear demonstration that the Confederacy didn't want to do anything concerning the Zerg invasion was what instigated him and the local Magistrate to defect and join the Sons of Korhal.

"You're right.", Raynor said, after some time and with a sad face. "And makes me wonder... If he somehow knew, why's he... simply taken you in and not just shot you?"

That last statement caught a light in Kerrigan's mind. She forgot that all along. The suspicious recruitment. His knowledge of her participation in the Mengsk murder and his _'forgiving'_ of her. Mengsk's rescue of her in Vyctor 5.

"Even I don't understand that...", Kerrigan said, lost in her thoughts.

"I'll... I'll meet you outside.", Raynor said, turning around to leave the room. There was much for him to think about, given what Sarah said to him, but he just couldn't do it there. On his first steps, Kerrigan turned to look at him.

"Jim.", Kerrigan called. Raynor stopped and turned to look at her.

"How long was I away?", Kerrigan asked. "Months?"

Raynor let out a small pause.

"Too damn long.", he said, walking again and finally leaving the bathroom.

Kerrigan didn't need the answer anymore. The look on Raynor's face answered it for her.

"Years."

* * *

**_FINAL COMMENT:_**

And now, we truly begin the story with the first chapter. The prologue isn't considered a first chapter, at least in my standards, it only sets the scenario, pretty much as it did immediately after the ending for Wings of Liberty.

Now, beginning with the initial comments, yeah, out of most names known in the science fiction genre, including iconic ones such as Asimov, Adams, K. Dick, Herbert and C. Clarke, I've picked up a movie director. But it was a director that made up science-fiction his home. I confess, it was a bit of a personal taste rather than choice. Paul Verhoeven's work made up a bit of my childhood with his iconic B-movie works, such as _Starship Troopers_, _Robocop_, _Total Recall_ (That I consider the true work, not that 2012 garbage that Len Wiseman and Colin Farrel tried to pull, despite the fact it was true to the novel) and _Hollow Man_. He could fit humor, drama, philosophy and some decent action scenes in sequences that simply... fit right. After all, who couldn't remember that classroom, where Jean Raczak delivered the memorable speech of the downfall of democracy? Too bad his legacy was put in the hands of the moron Ed Neumeier, who put up idiot stuff like religious zealot in that blond hooker or a second Robocop who works with drugs as fuel. Then, _Starship Troopers 2_... Oh, god, it sounded more like a college dropout fan work than an actual movie.

Now, for the installation itself. I believe I was inaccurate when I related it to _2001_ and _THX._ I could've mentioned works like _Halo _or _Star Wars, _as those somewhat come closer in appearance if you played the first missions in HotS, but the pearl white made me want to go a little more back and go nostalgia for you, sci-fi old timers. Actually, I wouldn't complain of the Umojan tileset and doodads were not for two things and two things alone: The bump mapping of the doodads, that are unbelievably low-res, something not normal for Blizzard, and the reflection, that is blurred and buggy, which made look like the Umojan tileset was still under development by the time HotS was pressured into release. But, other than that, I kind of like of the Umojan installation, although it could be made more of corridors and more corridors and not those over-extending bridges lying over a huge gap, like it was in the second mission. IMO, this facility would not recommended for people with height issues, like myself, actually. Also, I tried to come as closer as possible to detailing the appearances of the Umojan scientists and Marines in the facility, using all the references from the cutscenes and the concept artworks.

Talking of Umojan scientists, I hope you've came to like the new characters I introduced. I personally enjoyed writing the two extremes of my persona, when I'm calm and rational and when I'm angry and a bit radical and a jerk, which are, obviously, Stratton and Braxton. However, don't get confused that there are just two scientists who happen to come up in a facility, they will be pivotal to HotS in a way you wouldn't expect out of your standard secondary character, and I quite like them. Honestly, I think the only true secondary character that plays his role and then steps out later is Sergeant Reamer. When I think of Reamer, and the way I defined him, he's a black Tychus Findlay, with his face and head strong and bulkier, running along the lines of famous actors like Ving Rhames and Michael Clarke Duncan (RIP, dude, you earned it.). For Braxton, I kind of pictured him as myself when I get my haircut too short, almost bald. Finally, for Stratton, I pictured Mark Strong, with his Lord Blackwood haircut from _Sherlock Holmes._ This simple. Some people call it a fan idiocy, others call it copycat, I call it referencing. Makes more easier for people to translate, especially if some people read the descriptions and can't picture it, sometimes it's difficult. Also, I came to a bit of a fun with the nice little relationship both the new characters and the originals came to interact with. At least, that's a first for your 'normal' first impressions of a person.

Lastly, Kerrigan. The _cyber-hooker_ thing was intentional. I generally think that just looking at her suit, in the first HotS menu and the back shows when she's talking to some characters in story mode. The swimsuit outline must have been intentional, an attempt by Blizzard to make a femme fatale, but not everything has to be sexualized, like EA practically did with most of _Red Alert 3._ And I think I managed to cover a crucial part of her background and keep the _'don't remember anything during infestation'_ thing as I wanted. I had some trouble picturing the scene when an old scene from _Blade II_ came in my mind. That about covered up by then.

Well, then, wait next week for the next chapter. Comment, please, appraise, criticize, rant at what I went wrong, you know the works. Data, data, data, can't make bricks without clay. xD


	4. Chapter II - Lab Rat

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER II - LAB RAT**

* * *

**CHAR, HIGH ORBIT.**  
**FORTY-EIGHT HOURS SINCE THE FINAL BATTLE.**

The last two days haven't been too easy for the Dominion fleet. At least, for the half that belonged to Prince Valerian Mengsk. Where before, on the orbit of the huge volcanic planet, there was only the worrying of firing guns and fighting to stay alive for as long as possible, now there was a more terrible enemy: _Patience._ While some rest and recovery was deserved for the ship crews after fighting the most dangerous alien species known to Man, there wasn't much now to think of or do. They could have warped to other planets to take the fight to the enemy, but Warfield requested the fleet to stay and guard Char until relieve arrived. Perhaps there was some reasoning too in keeping guard over a world not so dangerous anymore: If the fleet left, how long would it take for the Zerg to rise up again and destroy local Dominion presence?

This very thought enlightened Captain Lilith on the history classes she'd been on the school in Tyrador VIII, concerning terrorism caused by religious activists in 21st Century Earth. How the country called the United States of America was forced to clamp down on desert countries close to Europe, in a region named Middle East, for the pure fear of terrorism, as most of it appeared from that region. How military presence, despite protests, was necessary, for, if there was no American presence, who knows what could the terrorist factions do? Somehow the same situation applied in this ball of ash and lava fire, almost five centuries later.

Lilith had been thinking on this while contemplating the view of the planet below from the viewing window, with it's crimson red nebula in the background. She's been there, on the bridge, for God knows how long. Despite the pain in her back and the apparent fatigue in her legs, Lilith knew she had to stay there. She was a Dominion Captain. She was a symbol of hope, a beacon of strength, an inspiration for men and women serving the empire of Arcturus Mengsk, but, above all, she was a sign of authority. Of order.

"Ma'am, we have incoming signals closing in.", spoke Feud Thorne, Lilith's second-in-command and the ship's Number One standing by the _Wrath's_ Star Map table. "They've sent in their IFF codes, they're ours. It's the Dominion Fleet."

At a glance, as Lilith had seen in the window, several more hammerhead shaped ships had arrived by the dozens. Somewhat close to thirty to more Battlecruisers had come out of warp a bit far from the Dominion ships orbiting Char and were closing in on the planet.

On the Star Map, one of the ships identifiers appeared before the eyes of the forty-five year-old officer, with his grey hair going even white along his face once he saw the name _'White Star'_. He knew this name and the person in command of it. He went towards the viewing window, close to Lilith, to deliver her the news personally.

The Dominion Fleet, under the command of Arcturus Mengsk, Emperor of the Dominion, had arrived.

* * *

**UMOJAN RESEARCH FACILITY _'VERHOEVEN'_ - CLASSIFIED**  
**IN THE MEANTIME.**

"For how long will I be here?", asked Sarah Kerrigan to Jim Raynor, with an air of impatience, all the while watching the blue energy bubble and the door of her containment cell behind it. While, before, her body wanted to rest, now she was restless. She wanted to be anywhere but there. Raynor stood sit by her side, keeping company.

She wanted to jump and scream. She wanted to run and slide. She wanted to dance and sing.

Instead, Kerrigan was sitting there, seemingly patient, all the while facing the door and fighting the most powerful of enemies, even more powerful and hated than the Zerg and Protoss combined: _Time._ Sometimes she picked and played a bit with those pieces left over in the ground, using her mind to join those pieces into a metal ball, like a jigsaw puzzle. Other times, she disassembled them and spun them around. This metal ball, leftover at the containment cell, was at the same time a warm-up exercise and a therapy for psionic-able subjects. Psionic-able people like Kerrigan.

What not so many people knew was that Kerrigan, so far, was the most powerful psychic ever living to humanity. Her psionic levels were unprecedented and incomparable to a level that, when the Confederacy _'enrolled'_ her in the Ghost Program, they were forced to redesign their entire chart of psionic scale measurement, the Psi Index for short, to fit her scale. Most psionics, even the most powerful ones in the actual days, have Psi scale of 7 to 8. Sarah, before her infestation by the Zerg Swarm, had a Psi scale of 10. During her infestation, her psionic capacity reached to 12. Kerrigan, for those in the Ghost Program and even it's unofficial off-shoot, Project Shadowblade, was considered a legend. One she never wished to be.

"The guys in this facility are pretty suspicious about you. About your former life.", Raynor answered. "They want to run tests on you. I told them I'd kill them if they pushed it."

"They _always_ like to push it, Jim.", said Kerrigan. "Was that way with the Ghost Program, it will be with them here."

However, a loud flanged sound was heard along with the noise of metal twisting and switching places. The protective energy bubble surrounding the containment cell had been deactivated and the door was opening. Kerrigan and Raynor shifted their attention to the door, expecting to see a crew of scientists and perhaps some Marines.

Instead, they see a single person, blonde-haired and wearing silver-clad shoulder pauldrons and a black suit with a long red cape on his behind, making him look like a person pulled out of a social event that must have been happening upstairs. While Raynor could have recognized the man, Kerrigan, being 'unconscious' for the past four years, could not.

"So, Kerrigan, you're awake and... seemingly fine.", spoke Valerian Mengsk, walking towards the couple sit on the central bed. "You could've told me she's awake, Jim. I wanted to greet her in person.", he added, looking at Raynor.

"Who is he?", asked Kerrigan. Before Valerian could let out a sound when he opened his mouth, Raynor spoke first. At first, Valerian thought it was a rude action, but the look on Raynor's eye brought a rationalization: It was better she didn't know of Valerian's origin. Not now, at least.

"His name is Valerian.", Raynor said. "He helped me get you back on Char."

Kerrigan started to get on her feet, when suddenly images started booming on her head. Images of the young blond man passing through reading sessions in his rich, apparently Victorian Age styled room, of administration and military doctrine and tactical deployment. Images of his passing through other planets, leading guarded scientific expeditions through ruins and abandoned places, with constructs apparently non-human, as he decrypted ancient language and performed studies on all and any artifacts he recovered, knowing their past and capabilities, clearly denoting an apparent obsession of the blond person named Valerian with archeology.

However, one image caught Kerrigan's attention and anger, as she's seen this blond man standing before another person. A person that bore a fully developed beard and mustache, gray eyes and a long black hair which was turning gray and white with the apparent age of his face. A rugged, yet stern face, matching that of dictatorial leaders of old times past. This man was speaking roughly to Valerian, and on his face as he circled around him.

_"I am your father, Valerian, and cheap gibes will not change that. I know you do not love me as a father ought to be loved, but I care little for that. However, if you are to succeed me you will need to be tougher."_, said the older man. With that done, the images stopped.

A bubbling wave of anger and fury started emerging on Kerrigan as she looked at Valerian in the eye.

"Your memory...", Kerrigan said, as her eye pupils started glowing an unnatural orange color. "_You're Arcturus' son!_"

Neither Raynor or Valerian predicted what occurred next. Valerian started feeling a strange, invisible strangling around his neck, blocking his air current passage and making him starting to choke. His face twisted according to the strength of the invisible strangling, which seemed like the hands of an overgrown men or a person in a Marine armor were choking him in person. All the while, Kerrigan's eyes remained an evil orange glow and an angry face as she continued to face Valerian head on.

"Sarah! SARAH!", Raynor shouted, trying to grab Kerrigan's wrist, but she waved Raynor away, as he flew aside with an unnatural, almost cartoony speed, having him ram into one of the walls.

"Do you have ANY idea of what your father did?", asked Kerrigan, with an increasing anger, pointing a finger at her own Zerg tendril hair. "How did I came into **this!?**"

Then, out of nowhere, Valerian started lifting on his own from the ground, clearly defying any sense or law of gravity. Staying midair, how far he was up only showed how furious was actually Kerrigan, and how much effort she was putting with ease on this particular matter. Seeing this scene of nearly-apparent horror, where the Crown Prince was struggling for a chance at a breath, Raynor tried to get on his feet as quick as he could and walked to Kerrigan.

"Sarah, he's on our side!", exclaimed Raynor, in a tone of desperation. "He's one of us!"

"And you trust him, Jim? A _Mengsk_!?", exclaimed Kerrigan back, looking furious at Raynor, somewhat itching to use her psionic potential on her rescuer too. "Who assures you he isn't planning to deliver me to his daddy?", she added.

"Because...", Valerian started, making all the strength he could gather to let some sound out because of the psionic strangling. "I'm... not... like..."

"_'Not like him'_, you mean?", Kerrigan asked, looking back at Valerian and clearly furious, but suddenly, something happened. Valerian fell down to the ground and he could finally start breathing, the first feeling of fresh air finally bursting through his traumatized air canals. "Yeah, I heard that a million times...", Kerrigan added.

"If I wanted... you dead...", Valerian said, taking time to breath, but unable get on his feet, still all weak from the scene that occurred to him shortly ago. "I wouldn't have brought on Jim. Or used the Xel'Naga artifact."

"A what artifact?", asked Kerrigan, looking suspiscious at the Crown Prince.

"_Xel'Naga artifact._", answered Raynor, in Valerian's place. "An alien device. It's what allowed me to bring you back. It's what made me join him."

Even though Kerrigan looked strangely at Raynor, wondering what the '_Xel'Naga_' name meant, Raynor knew this name as those of the owners of the black triangular pillar he triggered and fired on Char with the aid of Valerian's troops. As well as the name of the aliens said to create the Zerg and Protoss races. While though their face was never seen by anyone in the sector, their legacy could be seen in the countless artifacts, ruins and abandoned temples and ship debris, with all traces leading to a previously powerful, god-like race. Perhaps god-like enough to create two of the most dangerous alien races Man had met in it's whole existence.

Still, Kerrigan decided to let aside those questions, which she could ask Raynor later, seeing he has some answers concerning that. She only looked at him, then, with a suspicious face, like if she was facing a man who made a pact with the devil. An irony, apparently, which was what Raynor actually did...

"And didn't you even _suspect_ why would he care?", she asked Raynor, bitterly.

"I just wanted to prove something. To prove I'm a better man. Better than my father.", tried to explain Valerian. It only made Kerrigan turn her eyes down on Valerian with a look of disgust and disappointment.

"You eluded Jim with a promise and relied on an alien object to defeat my other self.", Kerrigan slowly said, with a cold tone. "Bringing me back would make you better than him? It's not enough. _I'm not convinced._", she added, as every word somehow cut through Valerian's confidence like a knife cuts through the skin. This was enough to make Valerian look like he was defeated in all he tried, still he worked his facial expressions to not show an explicit sign of weakness to her. Raynor didn't know if he should look at Valerian with a flicker of pity or at Kerrigan with a bit of anger at what she just did.

However, no one seemed to notice the entry of a few Umojan personnel, which were some Umojan Marines in their futuristic armor design and a single man, a light-gray lab-coat wearing scientist with short hair and all facial features of a man on this thirties, carrying a small chart on his right hand, looking at the scene. While the Umojan Marines wanted to act and ask what the hell happened, the man told them to stay put, for the time being.

"Well, if you both are done, I'd like to check the lady alone", the man said, having Kerrigan, Raynor and Valerian turn and look at him. "If you will please leave me be...", he added, as Raynor and Valerian, slowly getting up from the 'Darth Vader'-esque experience, turned around to leave the containment cell, leaving Kerrigan alone with the scientist.

"I'd like to welcome you, miss Kerrigan, to the _Verhoeven_ Covert Science Facility.", the man started, with Kerrigan only listening and looking straight at him in the eye. However, curiously, the man didn't seemed shocked or afraid at all with her intimidating look. "I'm Proctor Stratton, Chief of Medicine in this private institution. I suppose mister Raynor informed you that we intend to perform some tests?"

"He did.", Kerrigan answered, coldly. "What are you up to?"

"Well, I'd like to start a bit light and with the basics today.", Stratton answered, extending his chart and looking at it. "Physical tests, psychological, cardiac activity, cellular level exams. All the tests performed in standard humans.", he added, looking back at Kerrigan shortly before finishing the phrase.

"_'Standard'_?", Kerrigan asked, ironically and raising her still human eyebrows. "So no psionic demonstration today?", she added, as she knew scientists were always anxious to see what she could do and what not. At least, it was like that in the times of the Confederacy.

"I want to make sure your body won't have a breakdown should you give a try.", answered Stratton.

"Wasn't Valerian's hanging proof enough for you?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically.

"One can never be sure.", Stratton answered, trying to make some humor into it. He then gestured with his left hand towards the open door, where stood the Umojan Marines and the corridor as he added: "Now... shall we?"

With this said, Kerrigan said nothing, as she just walked along with Stratton out of the containment cell, with the Umojan Marines following them from behind. The door closed and the lights of the circular, cup-shaped containment cell were shut down the moment it was practically empty.

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - "_HARKONNEN_"**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR.**

From an apparently high and secure position like the dark-gray ash covered Dauntless Plateau, it was possible to witness the scenery of the field beyond. Small streams of burning lava running throughout the seemingly large valleys, protected by the towering spires and rocks above, all extending diagonally, providing a cutting remark of how dangerous the planet actually was. Afar, the sun continued to shine in an endless dawn of dusk, which, at times, made the sunlight nearly unbearable, as it couldn't be known if it was actually day or night. On the horizon, a massive, gargantuan mass of flesh and bone-like carapace that previously was the '_palace_' of the Queen of Blades stood tall, yet slowly decaying. It must have been due to the effects of the Xel'Naga artifact that was fired, which practically incinerated every small Zerg in the artifact's neighboring vicinity.

The Plateau itself was rather a peninsula than an actual plateau, with one side being covered by the rivers of lava, still being held in higher ground, leaving only one entrance and one exit through the ground, making it an ideal ground for defense. By air, of course, this ground could still be accessible, as through the infamous Zerg Nydus Worms that could tunnel their ways from even below the lava rivers. Still, a thick metal wall could be enough to block the entrance and keep the Zerg masses away, or even funnel them in a tight entrance where they could be best contained with flaming weapons and heavy gunfire for support. All the while, the masses outside would be pounded time and again by the trustworthy 180mm superheated tungsten artillery shells spewed by the Crucio Shock Cannons of the Siege Tanks. Any other concerns like air forces and Nydus Worms could be dealt with Missile Turrets, fighter squadrons and small, well armed mobile forces, respectively.

At least, that was the best assessment General Horace Warfield had in mind, at the moment.

The old African-American General, doubtless on his past sixties, bearing short white hair and mustache, had been contemplating the beautiful, if not dangerous, scenario of Char, that seemed tranquil due to the Zerg's recent defeat and blow to their hierarchy, but Warfield knew better. Somehow, they'd return. They'd _always_ return. He'd been watching it all from the safety of his CMC-300 suit, especially decorated by the General's standards.

Warfield's suit was mostly white, but color styled in a way reminding the uniforms of field military officers in the 20th Century. The ports for the lens flares of his suit bore small black rectangles above with three golden stars each, denoting him as a Field General of the Terran Dominion. Other than those details, he could pass unnoticed as a non-Dominion Marine.

Of course, now there was something else that could identify him: That damn black-colored mechanical arm and shoulder that replaced his right arm, lost in the first days of this cursed invasion to Char. A Hydralisk Needle Spine pierced through the neosteel of the Marine armor and poisoned his arm. Because of this, to avoid the risk of the infection spreading further through the already crippled man's body, his arm and shoulder were entirely amputated and replaced with this. Although, however, there was an advantage that this mechanical arm could offer, as the hand part could fold itself and make room for a makeshift battle cannon, connected to a particular loading system behind the shoulder plating, that would provide the needed explosive ammunition.

"**TEN-HUT!**", someone screamed in Warfield's back. This broke his contemplation, forcing the General to turn around and face the fortress under construction behind him. Then, he walked towards it.

The fortress that would become the main operations center for containing the Zerg on Char. The fortress was codenamed '_Harkonnen_', a name taken from an old book Warfield's sister read in her youth, curiously one of the few pieces of Earthly writing still left. According to the book, the Harkonnen were a force of vicious murderers, rapists and tyrants, whom had naught but an obsession with hatred and most things physically and mentally unsuitable to humans, but they were warriors nonetheless, trained to fight in the harsh of conditions. And, for a volcanic planet that fit the description of the book, which housed these evil people, a better name could not be chosen.

The fortress was still in it's baby steps stages, with many walls, anti-air batteries, fortifications, missile turrets and other features to be constructed, but, other than this, the primary components, which was the Primary Operations Center, a giant structure akin to the keeps of medieval castles, and most of the walls and vital supply systems, which were the power plants and a water generator that could supply the troops in their needed times, either to satiate their thirst or cleaning themselves inside the POC, were now present and functioning. Still, much was needed to be done if the fortress had to be in conditions called '_claimed by Terrans_'. In fact, the only defensive system that was on the midway of it's construction was the primary thermonuclear ballistic missile launch system.

While nuclear arsenals weren't so sparse in the Terran Dominion, they were an order concerning primary Zerg positions and attack routes, where massive waves could occur at any hour. Plus, the advantage of firepower allowed to counter any attempts at an assault in the fortress and even assault stationary Zerg emplacements, should the aliens consider surrounding _Harkonnen_ for a prolonged siege. For now, however, Warfield had to depend on them as a last-ditch defense, as he currently did not have so many nuclear warheads available.

Still, while proper defenses were not yet established, like anti-air weapons, long-range artillery emplacements, stationary positions and even landing and support facilities for friendly aerial units, Dominion presence was quite strong and very active. Unlike in space, where there was not much to do but wait, Dominion ground teams had been working non-stop to establish a firm foothold on Char. Wave after wave of Dominion infantry, both normal and large, as well as small mechanized units like the buggy-like Hellion scout vehicle and larger ones like Siege Tanks, bipedal mechanoids called Goliaths and the huge Thors, enormous mechs whose blocky appearance reminded people of old Japanese cartoons, but one who carried equally large arms for cannons and four more barrels on it's back, making it a walking giant artillery platform. All were on the ground and on the ready to fight any hostilities brewing in the neighboring areas. All were prepared to perform the brutal, messy craft called war.

Warfield, while he pretended he was not surprised, was quite impressed with the current level of progress in such short time. Perhaps it was a good idea of Crown Prince Valerian to bring in some construction crews along with the fleet, to set up a staging ground for prolonged conflict in case something went wrong. Clever Prince. Not to mention that these crews operated very fast too. The order had already been delivered one day prior to the fall of the Queen of Blades, and, by the looks of it, it was practically half the way to be carried out. Such was the wonders of human construction techniques in the far future. Well, in the military sense, at least, as civilian constructs would not take so much fast to be performed, because of paperwork, bureaucracy and limited resources, unlike the military, that could utilize them at their leisure and concern with the files and regulations later.

As he finished walking, he saw a military welcoming committee on the far end, with Marines and Marauders lined up in columns and saluting at the front, all facing a single landed Dominion Dropship. Behind each column, the giant Goliath mechs stood behind like towering, walking gun support platforms, which was, curiously, the Goliath's second function, in comparison to it's anti-air capabilities. Warfield, as he did not foreseen, nor ordered any of this, went on to approach a red Dominion Marine whose armor had a single star on each front of his shoulder plates.

"What's going on, Colonel?", asked Warfield to this Marine, when the Dropship's cargo bay opened. "Great...", he said, when he saw the four people aboard and that were going to step down the Dropship's ramp.

Three of these people utilized a tight, skimpy white clothing that seemed to cover most of their body, from neck to foot. Over this white tight suit, they utilized metal-clad combat boots, knee wear, torso jackets and shoulder pieces incredibly smaller than those of Marine armor. All their faces were covered by a white tissue that covered face, hair, back and even the ears. Over the tissue, a headpiece, like a gas mask with a respirator and green colored eye lenses, with earpieces on each side of the head, represented their face. One of these three persons in particular, clearly female, wore her own stylized jacket that reminded more of a lacey bikini bra, albeit in metal. All of their suits had power lines with blue energy circling around their bodies, all coming out of small backpacks with a power reactor of sorts. All of them carried the same rifle, of a design that reminded special weaponry utilized by covert-operations' dedicated forces in the 21st Century, the infamous C20-A Canister Rifle.

But none of these three persons were as important as the fourth: A bearded man, with most traits of an advanced age, that wore a red brown long jacket with battered golden yellow stripes on it's borders, the same style applying to it's gloves. The jacket's shoulders wore a separate cloth piece of golden yellow, kept together by a junction in red brown with a golden wolf head symbol, the symbol of his family. Below the jacket, he was using a gray black suit, with golden colored details on the line of his abdomen, neck and belt. He also wearied a pair of black leather boots, that were tightly laced together. The overall look made him look like a baron or an elite member of old societies in the very beginning of the 20th Century. He walked across the line of saluting soldiers and apparently towards Warfield, with the three other people walking around him, two on his side and the third, the female, on his back. He seemed like someone very important that had to be protected, no matter the cost.

And they _had_ a reason to protect him: He was their leader. He was their benefactor. He was Arcturus Mengsk, Emperor of the Terran Dominion, and those protecting him were his most loyal Ghosts.

Warfield simply stood there, wondering how long it would take for him to come. He thought it would be earlier, due to the reason his son had usurped half of the Emperor's fleet for his venture on the very volcanic planet he stepped on. But then, either the pressure of combat on the field, the poisoning he suffered, amnesia or something else made him forget it would take at least an entire day to recall the other half, scattered across other worlds of the Koprulu Sector, fighting Zerg pockets or Hive Clusters, renegade Terrans and Protoss harassing civilian people or guarding something of value in some Fringe Worlds, respectively. However, when the Emperor approached closer to Warfield, the General didn't even have to salute. He didn't have much of a reason to.

"Where is she, Warfield? _Where is Kerrigan?_", asked Mengsk, straight to the point, as always, as he approached Warfield and looked at him. Unlike a normal situation, where a congratulations should be delivered, however, his voice seemed rather worried, under stress and alarmed. "Please, tell me she's stuck in a fortified cage and that I can enter and end her life as quick as possible!", he added.

Of course, Warfield knew this would come. The Queen of Blades, defeated, and the Emperor, so much undermined by her cunning, had come to end matters personally, see the job done, now that his son had pulled all the weight. Unfortunately, Mengsk would not have his wish come true. Warfield didn't have the Queen of Blades, finding out she was taken out of the planet hours after her defeat and days before the Emperor's share of the Dominion Armada arrived.

"You should've come in earlier.", said Warfield. "You could've got the Hyperion too. That's where Kerrigan's been sheltered."

Mengsk didn't like the answer. He knew who this ship belonged too. And who did what Mengsk most feared... His face was slowly distorting to one of pure anger.

"**Raynor!**", Mengsk said, bitterly. Afterwards, his eyes opened bloodshot as he looked above, opening his arms and clenching his fists, letting out a bloodcurling roar that would make the galaxy literally hear it and be frightened of the rage unleashed.

Four years of torment. _Four years_ of pure, bloody torment, waiting for her to slip up, and then he's not able to get the retribution he so desired, ever since family died years ago.

Mengsk always believed himself to be a chosen, stronger person, meant for something far powerful than his old father Angus would have wished for. This always made him diverge courses with his father, as Arcturus wanted to be a prospector while the other wanted him to continue the revolution of Korhal, wishing it to be free from the Confederacy's abusive grip. While father had inherited his fortune from his father before him, Mengsk wanted to make his fortune, knowing he built it and was proud of it, not because of depending on his father. He'd been a prodigal student in the once prestigious Styling Academy and was given an opportunity to become a prospector through the Confederate Marine Corps, the last of people his family would ever want him to be. He enlisted then, defying family and cutting ties with the remainder of the Mengsk Dynasty. He'd been on mining expeditions across the Koprulu Sector, fighting Kel-Morian mining operations and even the Guild Wars, becoming a Colonel in the CMC and settling for his earned prospector life in Pike's Peak. It seemed life was already planned for him. But it wasn't.

News of his family's death because of Angus' declaration of independence of Korhal, against the interests of the Confederacy, as well as the revelation of a seven year-old son named Valerian, fruit of a relationship with the daughter of an Umojan ambassador, had forced him out of his life as a prospector and into one as a revolutionary, for vengeance against the unruly slaughter of his family, particularly his father, whose head was never found. He took the reigns of the Rebellion of Korhal, only for it to be crushed with the strength of a thousand nuclear missiles the Confederate fleet unleashed on the planet, turning a once lush world into an irradiated wasteland. Fortunately, Mengsk was not in Korhal at the time. He formed the Sons of Korhal from the remaining rebels that survived or escaped the holocaust, that would ultimately overthrow the Confederacy with the _'aid'_ of the Zerg.

His chance for retribution came with a raid in a secret Confederate research facility, where he discovered one the murderers of his family, named Sarah Kerrigan. While every fiber of him wanted to eliminate her on the spot as an act of vengeance, something held his hand, telling him vengeance would come soon, and better. Therefore, he was patient, even lying to Kerrigan he had _'forgiven'_ her for the fact she cut his father's head off and delivered it to the Old Families. He'd seen the murderess he spared starting to believe and trust in him, even making friends with an acquaintance he'd retrieved from Mar Sara, a Confederate Marshall named Jim Raynor, who joined the Sons of Korhal disgusted for the Confederacy's willingness to become idle while the Zerg devastated every human colony in the Koprulu Sector with the Protoss in hot pursuit.

The chance to finally deliver a satisfying vengeance came in the Battle of Tarsonis. He'd known ever since then that Kerrigan now fully trusted him and that the blow of his revenge would cripple her. He sent her to fight the Protoss and keep them from fighting the Zerg, which would allow the Confederate Old Families to escape. When it was all done and assured, and she asked for help, he left her to die. His vengeance was at last satisfied. Despite the fact it made Raynor leave Mengsk's side in utter fury, he was at long last satisfied. His vengeance had worked and his enemy was destroyed. He was now Emperor of the Terran Dominion, undisputed and unscathed.

_Or so he thought._

Mengsk didn't account for the Zerg to actually _infest_ Kerrigan and turn her into one of their most feared lieutenants. He didn't account that he'd _need_ her to drive away the United Earth Directorate expedition that dethroned him in the Brood War. He didn't account that she'd _betray_ him shortly after, costing him most of his power and the life of his trusted second-in-command, General Edmund Duke. He didn't account that she'd forever _haunt_ him, causing the destruction of fleets, equipment and armies, with the hateful spice of knowing it was _he_ who made her what she was in the first place.

Four years of torment and fighting the Zerg at every turn, especially at the full-scaled invasion of Kerrigan in the Second Great War, had cost him so much to bring him to this moment, when she finally fell. So many lives in a second strike that finally succeeded. Indeed, a _second_. The first, a few years ago, made of resources he'd gathered from a few concessions and favors, had failed, even when he had the support of the vengeful Protoss and the remainder of the UED fleet, severely beaten by Kerrigan. Even with Kerrigan surrounded by all sides, against three fleets united by the common interest in her death, she had turned the tables and destroyed all fleets, making all opponents flee in shambles and forced to reconstruct their forces in a crippled state. Now, his own son has the audacity of usurping half of his fleet, which was concentrated in the Dominion core worlds, to launch this strike at Char, and now it is proven successful. Mengsk would finally have his revenge. _But no._ The person that abandoned his cause had fooled him yet again, taking the enemy into the former Dominion flagship, that he and his Raiders stole. And now, at the eve of victory, he is frustrated once more, by one who swore to settle scores for all he had done.

"**_And again, he does it!_**", shouted Mengsk, doubtlessly furious, walking senselessly one side to the other in anger and running both his hands along the length of his head and hair. "_Again_, he foils my plans, and my authority is _ridiculed_ by his slippery nature once more. And it's all **YOUR** fault, Warfield!", he said, in an increasing angry tone and ultimately pointing accusingly at Warfield.

"**MINE!?**", shouted Warfield, upset and angry at the charge. "How'd you say so, Mengsk, we **_ended_** the war!"

"**I didn't ask you to follow Valerian!**", roared Mengsk, starting to look around afterwards, looking for the mere image of his son. "And if he isn't here, then my son has become a criminal himself too. Despite all my efforts... He's finally proven himself a _failure._", he added in bitter frustration, turning his back on Warfield and looking down in utter disappointment.

Mengsk always thought of his son, Valerian, as one of the greatest disappointments of his life. As if his passion for archeology wasn't enough, he wasn't so much keen of being tougher and stronger in spirit and willing to expand his power. That was seen in both interactions between father and son, as, while Arcturus was authoritarian, believing fear to be an effective tool of management, Valerian was more open hearted concerning punishment and control of the masses. However as close as it could seem, the old saying '_Like father, like son_' simply _couldn't_ be applied to this situation. Both were simply_ too different_ from one another, to the point of saying one just couldn't be of the other's family.

"I should object... sir.", started Warfield, apparently through with Mengsk's rambling around. "His '_failure_' defeated the Queen of Blades, and now the Swarm is broken apart. Their advance on their sector has ended, while you, with all due respect, only kept on _cowering_ the fleet on the core worlds! I've seen more courage on your son than it may look in him and even more than in **you** lately! And I must add that his inclusion of Raynor in all this is what it made this whole damn operation _work!_"

"Believe all you want, Warfield, that Raynor is a hero, that my son is a brave leader and that if the Protoss were a race of flowers, _it would be rewarded!_", screamed Mengsk in total fury, looking back furiously at Warfield. "I'm **this** close to placing you in court marshall, for deserting the Dominion in it's utmost time of need and consorting with a known public enemy! The only thing that's kept me from arresting you so far is that, frankly, my son's ridiculous plan _worked!_ I don't know whether I should beat him or give him a hug, but now I can end the animal Kerrigan is while she's put down. And I swear, Horace, not my son, not Raynor and definitely not the entire cosmos will stand in my way _this time!_"

All the people in the scene, be they Marines, Ghosts or other personnel could testimony there was a divergence of opinions between both Emperor and his trusted General. While not many had known the reasons, Warfield did.

Days ago, before the Dominion Fleet even considered traveling to Char with Valerian, the Crown Prince had approached the General with a strange promise on Korhal. Warfield remembered Valerian saying that he had found a powerful weapon that could bring down the Queen of Blades, with the assistance of the recently bought Moebius Foundation, a legitimate research group dedicated to studying alien technology. While Warfield did not believe in the Prince's claims at first, the attention was caught when he stated that the artifact fragments and pieces were recovered by a secondary partner, that was revealed to be Jim Raynor, the most wanted terrorist and criminal in the Dominion. While first facing accusations from the General that he was collaborating with a known public enemy, Valerian defended himself by saying that Raynor was the only one that fought the Queen of Blades up and close and lived to tell the tale, and thus, he was a needed asset for his expedition to Char, the primary Zerg hive world across the sector. Despite disliking the idea, Warfield joined Valerian's venture, although at an expensive price: Valerian had to pay him a very considerable amount to have him call in the fleet and shift military operations from countering the Zerg to launch a direct assault at their '_homeworld_' in Char.

Apparently, Valerian was right concerning Raynor. Worse still, Warfield was _proven_ wrong over time. Raynor, a man Warfield thought to be a scumbag rebel pirate, proved to be the most competent field commander he'd ever came to know, even to one who led five separate incursions against the Swarm in the fringe worlds. Raynor fought enormous odds to turn the tide in favor of the Dominion, sabotaging an orbital platform that housed most the Zerg air power on the planet and rescuing Dominion soldiers that landed scattered across the fields of Char, as the fleet came under attack in orbit, making an organized landing or drop nearly impossible. Raynor had rescued Warfield's men and even the General himself, against all odds, when any other would leave Warfield behind, due to the enormous enemy presence surrounding the crash site of his former Battlecruiser, the _Helios_, who intended on eliminating Warfield and cutting the Dominion incursion off at the head. Contrary to Dominion propaganda, that exhaustively stated Raynor was a vicious terrorist and mass murderer, Warfield came to see Raynor as a betrayed heroic figurehead, especially after a daring raid that attacked the primary news studios on Korhal, broadcasting evidence that implicated Mengsk as the responsible in the Tarsonis genocide, years ago.

"Then you're gonna have a tough luck finding them both.", said Warfield, coldly. "Valerian and Raynor, I mean. He's been keeping some old favors in his pocket. Apparently he learned some cunning from the old man."

Mengsk couldn't say anything, drowning in frustration. That's when a third, older voice, with an apparent Indian accent, entered the scene.

"Perhaps I can offer a better solution, Emperor Mengsk?", the voice asked, politely.

The voice came from a very old person wearing a grey white lab coat, accompanied by two other people behind him using the same coat, although also using head wear, covering their head and faces. This old person, a man with pearl white hair cut and stylized mustache, seemed to be on his sixties and was calmly walking towards Mengsk. The Emperor simply looked at the person, apparently not knowing who he was.

"And you are?", asked Mengsk, a bit bitter at the revelations but still attempting to be cordial and calm.

"Doctor Emil Narud, of the Moebius Foundation.", the scientist said, introducing himself. "The Foundation your son currently owns."

Mengsk didn't like the last answer of this man, this Narud. If he worked for the institution his son owned, he had little reason for trust this man, no matter how much he was willing to betray his benefactor.

"You're one of Valerian's henchmen, and you expect me to _believe_ anything you have to say?", Mengsk said, suspiciously. "I hardly know why I should do it..."

"Valerian may own the foundation, Emperor, but the stability of Moebius is entirely owned to the Dominion.", answered Narud, readily. "To plot against the throne would mean the end of all our research funds, and that would be catastrophic. Not to mention the Queen of Blades herself proves to be a worthy specimen, either in experiment or autopsy-"

"_Unacceptable!_", Mengsk angrily interrupted, not liking Narud's idea of turning Kerrigan into a guinea pig, delaying her most deserved death. "For all I know, tempering on her like a pet would just stir Raynor and his terrorist friends to simply attack any hole you hide her head-on. Or worse... It can bring the _entire Swarm_ down upon the heart of the Dominion. I can't have that risk. She must die the moment she's found and her corpse burned out! There's no other way."

Mengsk let out a heavy sigh breathe, trying to calm himself.

"Still...", Mengsk restarted. "You say you have a better solution. If it's truly worth, then perhaps the Foundation will be in my very good graces."

"I assure it will, Emperor.", answered Narud, allowing himself a small smirk. "After all, you don't get to stay long in direction of something without making friends in the highest places. I, myself, have been quite acquainted with the young Prince. Acquainted enough to be a partner, so much as a 'friend' to him. I can turn this friendship in your favor. For Valerian, if there's one person he can 'trust' to call, that would be me."

"_And how can you assure me he'll do it?_", asked Mengsk, wanting a guarantee the plan Narud is suggesting would work.

"He simply can't deny it.", Narud replied. "He thinks I'm too loyal to simply tell anything to you. Besides, he's blind in believing that, just because he owns the Foundation, he can simply secret Kerrigan in our midst without anyone ever denouncing it to justice. Also, he won't be able to stay for long, without someone noticing in the midst of the Umojan Protectorate, which, I recently came to know, is owning him favors, as our good General graciously stated. Trust me, Emperor, he'll call me, sooner or later. He'll _have_ to call me."

Mengsk could see this scientist had some points to validate his plan. Despite Valerian's favors, they would not last long, especially with Kerrigan, a known enemy of Man, involved. Over time, he would have to think an alternative to simply keep circling Kerrigan around every top secret Umojan facility in the Koprulu Sector. He'd want a _permanent_ solution, and it lied on the institution he owned. Plus the concept that a traitor, particularly one so close to Valerian, could turn the favor for his father's benefit, lightened some hope on Mengsk. Perhaps there was still a chance to eliminate the greatest threat to the Sector while it was down, after all...

Mengsk simply walked towards Narud with a serious face, meaning business with the scientist turncoat.

"Should your plan succeed, Narud...", Mengsk said, considering Narud's proposition. "Then... We'll discuss the potential future of Moebius... _And of your career._"

The Emperor then turned to Warfield, simply watching the whole scene.

"As for you...", Mengsk started, bitterly. "You are fortunate, as I said. But you _won't_ get away with abandoning your Dominion and Emperor either. Since we took Char, make sure it's at least _habitable_ to human conditions. Clear every part of this planet of those Zerg, every hole, every cavern, every corner they dump their breakfast on, but do it until I say otherwise. This should be enough sentence for what you've done!"

With this finished, Mengsk turned around and left towards the POC, with Narud shortly following suit. The rest of the Marines simply stood by, awaiting their dismissal order.

Only Warfield didn't leave the scene. Instead, he muttered to himself a pray to whatever god or power out there of two things: That Raynor, Kerrigan and doubtless Valerian were fine where ever they were. And that Valerian didn't have to call Narud. Not now, at least...

* * *

_On Verhoeven, Phaeton..._

Somehow, in her mind, Kerrigan imagined Stratton would push her limits in every test, at every turn. The running and obstacle tracks, the firing exercise, the vision and hearing tests, the swimming pool, the reflex and danger instinct firing lines (That occurred normally, despite Raynor's protests, to the point of having security remove him from the viewing room.) as well as the chemical, remedy and blood test syringes that have been injected into her the whole day.

Curiously, it didn't happen. Stratton somehow didn't knew or didn't even care to push her limits, treating her to the maximum of respect unexpected towards one who was the greatest enemy of everything and everyone days ago. Even Raynor himself was surprised to see someone was actually treating Kerrigan as a human person like any other, and not a lab rat.

Of course, there was only the psychological tests to be done, and those were what somewhat worried Raynor and Valerian. Given her record for short temper bursts and unpredictable behavior not normal to an assassin she was in the Confederate Ghost Program, she could explode her patience as well as everyone else in the building. That perhaps was why Stratton preferred to conduct this particular test himself, instead of the psychologist normally assigned for such situations, Dr. Gregory Wilson.

The room where the test was going to be conducted as quite squary and small, with only a table with two chairs, facing one another in opposing sides, where Kerrigan and Stratton were sit, as well as a viewing window on Kerrigan's right side. One who hasn't been long in the _Verhoeven_ facility could easily call this an interrogation room, and not an examination one. A single file, along with a polygraph device and a laptop set on the table, on Stratton's side. The polygraph, despite looking futuristic, still required wires attached to the wrists of the person, such was the case of Kerrigan in the other side, who had some of the wires in her.

"This test is kind of a game, actually.", Stratton started. "We'll simply do some word associations. I'll tell you a word and you just tell me the first word that comes to your head. For an instance, I say 'Day', you say 'Light'. Understand?"

Kerrigan herself didn't say anything, nor nodded or shook her head. Stratton proceeded, nevertheless.

"Let's begin.", Stratton said. "Life?"

"Wasted.", Kerrigan answered.

"Ghost.", Stratton said.

"Spooky.", Kerrigan said.

"Dead.", Stratton said.

"Forever.", Kerrigan said.

"Gun.", Stratton said.

"Shot.", Kerrigan said.

"Home.", Stratton said.

"Haven.", Kerrigan said.

"Murder?", Stratton asked.

"Employment.", Kerrigan answered.

"Raynor?", Stratton asked.

"Pig.", Kerrigan answered.

This last one made Raynor, who was with Valerian on the other side, close his eyes ashamed. She still didn't forgive him for those thoughts he had of her when he first saw her on Antiga Prime, it seems...

"Zerg.", Stratton said.

This time, however, Kerrigan didn't say anything, looking down and being lost on her thoughts. The word that now she'd come to _hate_, hate for being a part of it and knowing she_ forever_ would be mentioned of it. A word she wished she never heard it again, but the wish won't be granted, for her _'contributions'_ would forever haunt her for days on end, 'till the end of her natural life and the expiring of her unnatural's.

"Zerg?", Stratton asked, persisting on the test.

Kerrigan simply looked back at Stratton, with her face still neutral.

"_Done._", she said, as she ripped off the wires and throwing them away. She then got off the chair and started walking towards the door.

Any other person would have protested on the matter, asking her to sit down and continue. Stratton didn't. He knew he, somehow, pushed the line on her.

* * *

Outside, on the door close to the one in the interrogation room, Raynor and Valerian came out and saw Kerrigan walking on the corridor, doubtless to her containment cell. Valerian simply stood there, waiting for Stratton, as Raynor walked in a hurried pace, trying to reach Kerrigan, only slowing down when he caught up her.

"That was a bit rude, what you did, Sarah.", Raynor commented.

"You were there, you saw it.", Kerrigan replied.

"And the simple '_Zerg_' word couldn't be answered with '_Monsters_', '_Devils_' or something?", Raynor asked. "To not be harsh, I'd say you'd need to learn some social interaction and behavior."

"Perhaps.", Kerrigan said, turning left in an intersection she and Raynor came across. "But for now, I wouldn't like to hear that word."

"I don't know about you, but I think we'll be hearing quite _a lot_ of it once we get out of here.", Raynor said. "Briefing rooms, cries for help, simple talk... The mentioning is just too common these days, darling..."

"Please, Jim...", Kerrigan started, stopping in her tracks and turning to look Raynor in the eye. "I.. I just _don_'t want to be a part of it anymore. Not controlling, not interacting, not being friends with them, just simple fighting and killing. You understand that, don't you?"

"I do, Sarah.", Raynor said.

"Then you'll know what I'll want of you, Jim, should they try to get me and infest me again...", Kerrigan said.

Raynor made a worried face on the matter. He wanted to avoid that talk, no matter the cost, but now here he was, talking what he didn't have to with Sarah.

"Sarah, I...", Raynor hesitated. "I can't..."

"You'll _have to_, Jim.", Kerrigan insisted. "You should have done it when I was that... thing you said I was."

"_I just rescued you, Sarah!_", Raynor protested. "And as I told you, none of it was your fault! I can't just promise to _kill you_ after getting you back!"

"I can't bear to be locked in a cage again as my body does what the Zerg want.", Kerrigan said, nervous, but then she calmed. "I'm only asking you, this time, if that happens, _please_, shoot me. No crying, no regret. Just point a rifle or a pistol to my head and pull the trigger. I swear to you, I won't hold you accountable."

Raynor stood there, shocked at Kerrigan's request to not allow herself to be infested again. That was the most difficult of requests he had to face on his life, which surpassed that involving his past life prior to all that mess nearly five years ago. He simply lowered his head in approval, closing his eyes shut.

"Thanks, Jim.", Kerrigan said, embracing him.

"Oh, there you are, miss Kerrigan.", a voice said close to the couple, coming from Stratton, approaching them. "I was actually figuring you'd come to your room."

"What do you want, Stratton?", Kerrigan asked.

"Well, you were obviously upset about where the test was going that you left and I didn't deliver you the medicine prescription.", Stratton said, handling a simple piece of paper to Kerrigan, with the writing of the medicine suggested to her. "You can pick it up in the Pharmacy, close to the elevator. Just be careful of the person in charge of that place, Nick Braxton. He's not so... _friendly_ as I am."

"Thanks, doctor.", Kerrigan said, picking up the paper piece as Stratton departed, back the way he tracked. She then turned at Raynor. "I have to go. Don't worry about it, Jim, and don't think too much on that."

"I don't know...", Raynor commented, still sad and with his head down. "I'll try, darling..."

"Okay, then. See you later.", Kerrigan said, starting to walk away. As she started to distance herself from Raynor, the cowboy had called her.

"Sarah.", he said. Kerrigan then turned around to face him. "Pig?"

Kerrigan couldn't control it. She let a little smirk come across her lips. The first in many years.

"Yeah, Jim, you still keep on thinking this kind of thing.", she said. "Also on the bathroom, in my suit. Don't worry, though, I like that. _That's_ the Jim I know."

With this said, Kerrigan started walking away, separating from Raynor. The man couldn't help but let out a smirk on his face too. Despite all of this, she was still her. She was still the woman Raynor knew four years ago. Raynor was thankful for seeing her back, despite that Zerg hair and all that happened.

* * *

The room was somewhat too dark for Prince Valerian's standards, but he didn't mind. He only reminded to close the door and lock it, as he couldn't afford unwanted people snooping the conversation between him and the person he was calling now. It had been only three days since they last talked to one another, but the man had to be told the news. Valerian simply stood there, waiting for the call to be answered, in an encrypted line that avoided Dominion tracking systems. When he first asked Stratton personally on the matter, he suggested the terminal on his office. '_With this one, no problem._', he said.

Some time passed before the image on the monitor came to life, of a man with white hair and stylized mustache wearing a lab coat. This man was known by Valerian as Emil Narud, a man that Valerian deeply trusts as his second-in-command and caretaker and spokesman of the Moebius Foundation. Narud did naught but smirk a bit when he saw Valerian's face on the terminal, on his side.

"I was wondering when you would call, Prince Valerian.", Narud started, on his typical humor mood and Indian accent. "I was starting to think your little venture has failed, after all."

Valerian didn't change his mood, however.

"You know my father, Narud.", Valerian started. "I couldn't take the risk earlier. As for the venture, it happened to be quite successful. The Queen of Blades shall disturb no one, no longer. Sarah Kerrigan has been returned to us."

"So the artifact performed as expected.", Narud replied, curiously raising his eyebrows. "That is a first, curiously, given how unpredictable alien artifacts tend to behave..."

"Don't worry, Narud, we're not in a science fiction game or something...", Valerian stated, letting out a little laugh with Narud on the other side.

"Still, it would have been far more wiser if you delivered her to our main installation, especially now that Tyrador is nearly cleansed of all Zerg activity.", Narud said, returning to his serious posture. "I couldn't barely wait to see her and examine her."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Doctor. Not now, at least.", Valerian said, looking above to see if anyone was snooping. "If my father is keeping an eye on the Moebius Foundation as I think he is, he'll know Kerrigan entered the facilities and will send a strike team as faster as she can escape. I can't take that risk, either. For now, I'll have to make due with the Umojans."

The last word had Narud make an intrigued and upset face.

"_Umojans?_", Narud asked, confused. "But, I, thought she would come _directly_ to Moebius hands! I'm utterly shocked!"

"Funny... I thought you were an Umojan, Narud.", Valerian commented, looking strangely at his friend.

"And... yes, I am, Prince Valerian, but...", Narud hesitated, intrigued. "This finding and discovery rights _belong_ to the Moebius Foundation, and thus to the Dominion. To allow the Umojans to explore Kerrigan... It is simply delivering power that could be _ours!_"

"I've seen this power you so value on Char, Narud, and trust me, it wouldn't help anyone.", Valerian said, looking sternly at Narud on the screen. "However, I should be able to leave within the next couple of days. Should you need anything, I'll be on planet Phaeton. I have to go, now, Narud. Valerian out."

With this, Valerian pressed a button on the side of the terminal and the screen shut off. He immediately got up the chair, hastening to leave Stratton's office in preparation for that night's event, the one Stratton planned to.

* * *

On the other side, it was a bit dark as well, but not as pitch black in Valerian's side. There, Emil Narud simply looked at the monitor, doing nothing but letting out a small smirk. He simply looked up, as Emperor Mengsk stood on the other side, with his Ghost guardsmen and woman in the back.

"Phaeton, on the edge of Umojan space...", Mengsk said, contemplative. "Given I've been quite some time with the Protectorate, they must have a facility somewhere. You can go now, Narud."

Narud started to depart, heading towards the door in the room when Mengsk's voice stopped his march.

"And, Doctor, rest assured...", Mengsk said, as Narud turned around. "Your contribution _won't_ be forgotten."

Narud had simply smirked at his words. He'd made it all work. His reward was inbound.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

The corridors on _Verhoeven_ remained as bright as they could get, with the lightning they had and the people walking around it. A couple of Umojan Marines stood security in a door that led access to the elevator shaft, as the scientists and some Marines themselves walked about doing their duties. This would at first worry Kerrigan, but those people simply seemed to be looking forward and walking forward, not stopping to talk to her or talking something about her as she passed on. For the first time in countless years, Sarah Kerrigan was walking unnoticed, like any other person would in a large town. A welcomed feeling.

Kerrigan stopped at the nearby circular door, close to the elevator in that corridor. It would be a simple access door like any other, were not for the fact it had a sign with a fat green cross above it, with two snakes twisting and crossing to meet one another. The classic symbol of medicine. Kerrigan walked towards it, as the door automatically opened.

Inside, the room on the other side of the door was small, filled with some cabinets, drawers with some medicine vials and entirely white walls. A small table with some chemical components and test tubes stood on the left side. But, regardless of the features of the room, even a small dispenser with a syringe on it, stood a single person in that room. A person that looked behind to see who just entered and didn't like to see Kerrigan's face or form.

This person, a male scientist, wore a light-gray lab coat like any other, but he had no head wear, allowing a full vision of his facial description: A short black hair, somewhat akin to that of Stratton, if not thicker compared to the Chief of Medicine. Brown eyes and a long nose complemented the description, along with the bitter expression he always seemed to be carrying. On his forehead, seemed to be a pair of eye wear he was previously using, obviously, to handle the medicine chemicals.

"What are you doing here, _lab rat?_", asked Nick Braxton, somewhat in a tone very rude for a lady, even the former Queen of Blades.

Not surprised with his rash tone, Kerrigan approached Braxton.

"Doctor Stratton told me to pick this up.", she said, handling him the prescription Stratton had given to her a moment ago.

Braxton simply yanked the prescription Kerrigan held and turned around to read it and opened one of the drawers. Kerrigan couldn't avoid it, but she had heard a voice coming from Braxton's mind. A thought too loud to be ignored.

_'Hmm... I'm surprised he hasn't prescribed Cyanide, otherwise... No, given she's Zerg, she'd survive that... Dammit...'_

Braxton picked up a vial from the drawer and closed it.

"What the hell are you snooping on my mind?", asked Braxton, in a bitter voice.

"I don't have to.", said Kerrigan, coldly. "You don't even need a telepath to know what you're thinking. You don't like me."

Braxton simply turned around, facing her with all the defiance in the world, the vial in his hand.

"What if I _don't?_", he asked. "Will you kill me for it?"

"Maybe I could. But I won't.", Kerrigan answered, with some nerves getting up on her. "You're not worth my time."

Kerrigan approached Braxton and picked the vial from his hand. As she turned to leave, she felt a hand grip her tightly on her wrist, where she was holding the vial, having her turn around.

"Let me get this straight, miss _'It'_: Stratton, Raynor, the Prince boy...", Braxton threatened, pointing a finger at her. "You may have charmed them, put a spell on them, whatever, but it's not_ working_ on me. In fact, the only reason I haven't called Mengsk and the Dominion fleet yet is because I know what's gonna happen to everyone the moment I do, but you haven't been a threat so far. So I don't have to tell you what happens if you misbehave. In fact, I don't even have to call them to kill you. I'll do that favor myself, and even work the funeral job. You got me?"

Kerrigan was too close to reaching a breaking point and do something about it. Maybe fracturing his finger of his, punch his face, or unleash an energy blast that would throw him on the wall and destroy most of the glass in the Pharmacy. Instead, she simply faced him.

"You know something? You're right.", Kerrigan said, yanking her wrist out of Braxton's grip. "_You don't have to tell me_."

Kerrigan then turned around and left, and Braxton did nothing this time. She was mad. At least there was one who didn't trust or even like her. It had been with most people in her time, but Braxton took this to another level. She'd have to talk to Stratton about him, one of these days. It was when she remembered him, warning her on that young stupid pencil-neck. Then she reminded her psychological test in that tight room and realized now she had an answer for a very peculiar question.

_'Braxton? Jerk.'_

* * *

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

And it couldn't stop focusing on that seemingly empty, orbiting dust ball. It had been this for a seeming eternity, as nothing happened. At least, until a few moments ago.

The lone Zerg Overlord simply stood over there, keeping watch over Phaeton as many other Overlords had been, dispatched to other worlds and moons, like if they were in search for something they had lost and vanished from their sight. Antiga Prime, Moria, Mar and Chau Sara, Agria, Tyrador, even the worlds close to Protoss space.

_No, not those ones._ That foolish would-be hero would never take her there. The Protoss never forget, nor _forgive_ what she had done, and they get over Jim Raynor's corpse to put her in a trial, or straight to death sentence.

Yes, a bit far from the uncomfortably warm star, the Overlord had been been keeping watch over this particular planet. However, no matter how lonely it seemed, it was not alone. It had been under the watch of a very dark eye, who's been using it to watch it ever since a transmission spewed out of the planet not long ago.

This dark eye was very dark, indeed, close to being fully black were not for the shine it still provided, as a slick, organic piece. A brown pupil was what remained to avoid this one eye to being entirely dark. It was very piercing, even for human eyes, as it was keeping watch over the Overlord. It saw through it. The Overlord was it's forward eye, in regions afar. It had been like this since the Queen of Blades conceived it.

"_Really,_ pretty blondie, it is amazing how _stupid_ you were right now...", said a voice that must have belonged to the dark eye. The voice was doubtless feminine, alien yet human, sweet yet uncomfortably frightening. It was something to be easily seduced and be afraid of. The feeling was beyond a clear explanation, should one ever hear it.

"Maybe you were just thinking on avoiding your daddy. _But not me_. You never accounted for Zerg being able to do this sort of thing, did you?", asked this voice, contemplating the planet. "Don't worry, soon you'll see what your actions have done. And the worse of it is, _you won't even know how the hell we found her._", the voice added, letting out a small chuckle.

Suddenly, something else caught the Eye's attention. Some star-shaped lights that surged and evaporated as fast as the human eye could catch. The Eye forced the Overlord's sight and it saw hammerhead shapes with lights approaching the planet. It recognized these shapes. Two of those have been orbiting the planet for the last days since they arrived.

"What the?", the voice asked. "_Uh, oh..._", it added, in a tone almost as if it were singing.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENT:**_

And so, another chapter concludes. Well, if you read it right, yeah, things will soon get hot, even for a planet already as hot as a desert world. Also, hope you enjoyed the references set in this chapter, including the Skyfall polygraph scene.

Now, to talk of other stuff, I've been reading some reviews on the story, and they're majorly positive. I'd like to give a special thanks to Ragnarok for his inclusion that I did my background research and included elements from other novels, like _'Uprising'_, which, honestly, I never came to read. Serious. Most of my research has been based on the StarCraft wiki fan-page. But the truth is, I want to cover as much as possible, just like I did in my other works like _'The Black Rose'_ and _'Tiberium Wars: Broken Wings'_, which both would've continued were not for the hard drive crash that made me lose most of my work six months ago. Some people would consider this as putting lines for filler, to not make the chapter shorter than it should be, or the infamous '_rubbing it in our faces_', but I admit I'm less concerned with those people than those who're relative newcomers to the StarCraft universe, whom only known the game and not the universe within. I like to think that, as people read more and more of the characters' backgrounds, like the case with Kerrigan and Mengsk, as well as events and explanations, the more they'll be interested in the universe. I call it the waterfall effect, something official novels like _'Flashpoint' _don't apply, and thus, this destroys their interest on the universe. Golden, for an instance, did not even care to describe a bit more of Zerg and Terran units and how they looked like, and those that I didn't, was because I couldn't exactly described how exactly they looked like. The woman speaks of the Zergling as a simple melee unit and the Mutalisk as a '_flying Zerg that can strike both aerial and ground units_'. This is something that you can read and accept if it was in a game manual, not in a novel, for crying out loud! Then, there's the battles, which I can cover in the next chapter. And, men, they sound stupidly simplistic and straight forward.

Also, now that I mentioned Kerrigan, there's been also a bit of criticism concerning that her character was a bit off, especially because she didn't breakdown and cry like it happened on _'Flashpoint'. _I can somewhat explain that. Yeah, there was that feeling that she simply accepted it all in the previous chapter, but let's think about it for a minute: You just woke up after a presumed four year '_coma_' of sorts, in which your body was alive, but not your true self. You find out a bit of what the Zerg did to you and what you did as Zerg. You find out the why and how it happened. Well, it's a bit too much to assimilate, true, but too much to react to it accordingly. Also, there's the matter that Raynor did not tell much of what she did, other than the fact she made a mess in Protoss territory and the Terran worlds. Well, if you deal with people that you _know_ they are dangerous, like Kerrigan and her psionic powers, you can't just open the floodgate and hope the water won't violently flood everything in it's path! I believe in a gradual, slow and safe method of informing these things. Yes, there'll be consequences and the infamous 'Why didn't you tell me earlier?', like it was in the bathroom scene, also in the previous chapter, but, unfortunately, that's the bitch of dealing with human beings. You never know what to expect. Also, the reason I didn't add more emotion to the scene is because, honestly, it'd kill the immersion and it'd look pretty cheesy and ridiculous, and it's not _'The Three Stooges'_ or some over arching drama like _'Schindler's List'_ we're talking about. This is something different, and that requires a bit of balanced writing. Well, writing is a messy business, but, fortunately for some, I happen to be a messy writer.

Finally, the Char scene, which was something I wanted to talk about concerning _Heart of the Swarm_. The official one, by Blizzard, I mean. Warfield's post _Wings of Liberty _event seemed a bit ill-explained than it should have been, be it either in the game or in Golden's novel. I wanted to give Warfield a chance at showing up here more than what he has in Heart of the Swarm and his unfortunate fate there. I wanted to show how it happened and how frustrated and furious Mengsk came to be after knowing Kerrigan was beaten, but he couldn't reach her. Also, I wanted a better explanation and plot twist than what was offered in the official Blizzard game. Yeah, it's a bit off and predictable the 'betrayal' thingy, but some people should see through the eyes of Valerian. That's because he really trusts Narud, and he thinks he knows Narud wouldn't do something like that, just backstabbing his practical boss. At least, concerning _'Flashpoint'_, Narud played his role and function with a degree of decency, unlike with what happened in_ Heart of the Swarm. _Narud, in the game, was poorly portrayed compared to his previous ones. Besides, if such a scene was included, like the case of some others I would add soon, I think HotS would advance, but only a bit.

Well, then, 'till next week, see you folks next time! _(Don't even know why the hell I copied Husky on it...)_


	5. Chapter III - Back in the Saddle

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER III - BACK IN THE SADDLE**

* * *

**UMOJAN RESEARCH FACILITY _'VERHOEVEN'_ - PHAETON**  
**NIGHT TIME.**

There were many things a woman would naturally be angry about. A husband cheating her with another woman (Sometimes, even a man, it has happened!), a difficult economic situation, the fact of her being ignored and thought so little of her so far, when not everything goes according to plan... These sorts of things make a woman go angry, and the old saying states clearly that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

In Sarah Kerrigan's case, it was the lack of alternative for that skimpy, over-sexualized environment suit she was being forced to wear twenty-four hours a day. Especially for tonight's event, in which she wished she _had_ an alternative to that suit she came to hate. Proctor Stratton, head of the facility, had organized a small nightly dinner between him and the guests on his facility. These guests were her, Raynor and Crown Prince Valerian. She didn't know if the dinner required any sort of dressing demands, typical in elite social events, or how the others would be dressed, particularly Jim. Although she never had any issues with vanity, it just felt bad for her if the man she liked and loved was better dressed and she remained in this goddamn suit, as if the embarrassment of having to walk in public with Zerg tendrils for her hair wasn't enough.

All the while, all she could do was sit and wait in her central bed in the containment cell, which, technically, became her room. She had been waiting there for two hours, the dinner would be at 8:30 PM, local time. In that time, she thought back at that fateful day, when it all started.

* * *

_She remembered running from the aggressive firing of Zerg Hydralisks in the recently devastated metropolis of New Gettysburg, in Tarsonis, who fired with the speed of machine guns and the marksmanship of the most well trained firefighters the Confederacy could offer. New Gettysburg was the final day of official Confederate rule, the final nail to the coffin. Courtesy of Kerrigan and her mentor and 'benefactor', Arcturus Mengsk._

_With all the defenses and well armed and numerous personnel, Mengsk and his Sons of Korhal knew it would be simply impossible to deal with the Confederacy and taking down their core world, Tarsonis, who housed the Old Families and the highest echelons of Confederate military command. However, their enemies and their obsession for exploring the Zerg have given their most hated enemy their weapon: Blueprints for the Psionic Transplanar Waveform Emitter, or Psi Emitter for short, recovered in a raid led by Jim Raynor, previously one of Mengsk's lieutenants, back in Mar Sara. Mengsk ordered the fabrication of these devices, that remembered spinning soundboxes stacked in a base and pole, and tested one to lure the Zerg atop of a heavily defended Confederate base in Antiga Prime. Then, with the aid of a Confederate General Mengsk rescued, named Edmund Duke, he could breach the defenses of Tarsonis and install several of these Emitters through out the planet, attracting the entire Zerg Swarm over the planet, knowing the Zerg's strength in numbers would ensure the end of the Confederacy._

_Unfortunately, the plan also attracted undesired elements that came in the form of a Protoss Expedition, that directly engaged the Zerg during the battle for the planet. This alarmed Mengsk, for the fact the Confederate hierarchy could use the crossfire opportunity to escape Tarsonis. That's when he sent Kerrigan, with nothing but a small squadron, to neutralize the Protoss efforts. The time she was running from those Zerg occurred after Kerrigan managed to avert the Protoss assault, forcing them to retreat to orbit. She ran until she reached a half-destroyed barrier, where she took cover and called Mengsk's flagship, the Hyperion, on her intercom earpiece._

_"This is Kerrigan.", said Kerrigan. "We've neutralized the Protoss, but there's a wave of Zerg advancing on this position. We need immediate evac!"_

_What she didn't know, however, was that her benefactor had other plans. That's when she started tapping on the earpiece when she got no answer for more than thirty seconds._

_"What?", she heard a male voice that belong to Raynor at the time. "You're not just gonna **leave** them!?"_

_"All ships prepare to move away from Tarsonis on my mark.", came a second, raspy voice that was from her leader, Arcturus Mengsk._

_Suddenly, she felt coming herself under fire from a Hydralisk and some Zerglings approaching the wall. She cocked her C-20A Canister rifle and opened fire, dispatching the small Zerg with ease, but the Hydralisk's fast and concentrated fire forced her to move, running along the wall as she attempted to fire back. However, a wall section in front of her forced Kerrigan to stop her tracks. From it, the Hydralisk, in it's imposing, fierce snaky alien appearance bursted right out of the newly breached gap, coming out of it's firing position to outrun her._

_As the beast laid out a fearsome roar, with it's three jaws opening wide, she was taken by the fever of distress and unleashed the full clip of her rifle until it was dead. The Hydralisk fell to the side, no more being the deadly beast it was. That was too close for comfort, in Kerrigan's opinion. She tapped her intercom again, opening the transmission._

_"Uh, boys...", Kerrigan said, with a bit of fear in her tone this time. "How about that evac?"_

_"Damn you, Arcturus!", Raynor said, clearly angry. "**Don't do this.**"_

_"It's done.", Mengsk said, in the intercom. "Helmsman, signal the fleet, and take us out of orbit. Now!"_

_"Commander? Jim? What the hell's going on up there?", asked Kerrigan, before she was interrupted by a loud screech coming from afar. She could feel the ground tremble on her feet, even with the cover of her combat boots. She looked to the destroyed city buildings horizon as she put on her tactical ocular headset, stuck up on her previous and lush redhair, stuck on a ponytail like she preferred in the past._

_The imaging from the glass-like device allowed normal and thermo-imaging scan. Kerrigan adjusted it to the latter, as she saw what was coming to her. Line after line of Zerglings. Hydralisks. And Mutalisks. All converging to her position. She tried to search her belt and backpack for additional ammunition, but she found out she had no clips to reload the rifle._

_She felt something she never had before. She felt fear of dying. That's when she looked up, at the enormous hammerhead shaped ships that could be seen like miniature toys from the distance she was. One by one, they started vanishing, in a bright star beam that Kerrigan knew as a warp jump. Her eyes widened in fear. The Sons of Korhal were leaving. Why? Haven't they listened her call for retrieval? And if they did, why did they ignore her?_

_Suddenly, as the Zerg minions approached her more and more and surrounded her, she realized something. She looked back at the memories of her previous work with the Confederacy. How she led the team into the quarters where Angus Mengsk and his family were. How they killed them all, even the youngest daughter. How she sliced Angus head, as a request from Confederate command. She then knew. She knew that Arcturus couldn't simply have forgiven her the way he did. She knew that, sooner or later, he'd have his revenge._

_And revenge he got. But not firing a gun or stabbing a knife on her, it wouldn't be satisfying. He got it by making her a monster. And making her join her kind. She closed her eyes in preparation for the inevitable conclusion, as Zerg of most types, shapes and sizes crawled towards her._

* * *

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted as the containment doors opened, and an Umojan Marine stepped in to meet Kerrigan.

"Ma'am.", the Marine started. "The dinner is prepared. They are waiting for you."

"Shouldn't be there a separate dress for me, or something?", asked Kerrigan, looking at the huge, bulky person.

"There's no need, miss Kerrigan.", answered the Marine. "You can go utilizing the suit."

Kerrigan got on her feet, starting to accompany the Umojan Marine through out the corridors of the facility, which were now empty. The scientists of the facility had ended the hourly turn and returned to their quarters to rest. Only the minimum of security personnel remained, to guard the corridors and ensure no one would try to breach the sanctity of the facility or attempt an escape. Most of the lights were practically out, leaving only those with a minimum to walk with the aid of a Marine's lens flare, who lighted the way. The blue computer consoles were also shut down.

The walk practically took a few minutes, as both Kerrigan and the Marine entered the elevator shaft and it automatically started ascending. It stopped after rising two floors above where Kerrigan's containment cell used to be. The doors opened and the two persons left, heading left in direction to a particular door that was like the others. The door automatically opened as Kerrigan and the Marine approached. Across the two layers stood the '_dinner room_', as Kerrigan would hardly call it.

It was a spacious, square room still covered of those white plating columns, but with a difference, as it seemed to be on the extremities of the facility. This could be seen on the large window dome on the end of the room, that granted a view of the planet outside. On the left side wall, stood a simple drinking bar with liquor doubtlessly too expensive even for one so familiar with drinking as Raynor. The floor was definitely different from the rest of the facility, as it included a long, rectangular red carpet surrounded by artistic plating. While there was no candle light, there still were some incandescent yellow lights, reminiscent of the 20th century that had become a rarity since their decadence in the midst of the 21st century. In the middle, lied a medium-sized rectangle dining table, with the highest high-tech details possible in Umojan standards, but with a simple glass on it's top surface, to allow the placement of dishes. This table allowed room for six chairs, two of which were occupied by Raynor and Valerian, one on each opposing side. Curiously, though, Stratton was nowhere to be seen. As the door closed behind her and Raynor and Valerian took notice of her arrival, each wearing their usual clothing, she approached the table, deciding to sit while waiting for the host of the dinner, obviously late.

As she approached the table she noticed a bit of a nervous anxiety on Valerian's face, like if he was cautious of what could happen if she was infuriated.

"Don't worry, prince boy.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "If I wanted you hanged I'd have lighted my eyes."

"Good to know it.", replied Valerian, attempting to sound casual. "Does that mean I don't get to be the dinner yet?"

"I wouldn't hold much hope for reprieves if I were you.", replied Kerrigan, not changing her mood. "You bear the name, you act the same as him. _Like father, like son,_ I believe."

"If it comforts you, Junior here is kind of a nominee for an exception.", Raynor said, trying to calm her suspicions down.

Suddenly, the door opened, finally revealing Stratton, still in use of his lab coat, who had arrived to attend the dinner. He walked towards the table in an apparent hurry.

"Excuse my delay, one of the containment cells for a Lurker reported a malfunction.", said Stratton, attempting to explain himself. "I strictly rule that any Zerg we can't contain must be destroyed, but the idiots wanted my personal approval."

"So you Umojans also do research on Zerg...", Raynor commented. "Why am I not surprised?"

Raynor was not so surprised at all, concerning everyone's fascination to study the Zerg and their workings, and how fascinating it is for a species who used no technology or mechanical devices at all to survive the rigors of space travel, multiply at an alarming speed and be able of a toe-to-toe battle with the most advanced Terran weaponry or the mighty and even more advanced Protoss. The only surprise concerning this matter was when he raided a Confederate facility during his time on the Sons of Korhal. What was supposed to be an only retrieval of information for Arcturus Mengsk prior to the evacuation of Mar Sara took a shocking turn when he's seen Zerg specimens on Confederate vats. Live Zerg imprisoned in pens and even a small Zerg hive nested in a heavily guarded containment rule. He remembered the shock of it, almost five years ago. On that sight, Raynor and Mengsk thought the same thing at the time: That the Zerg were the Confederacy's _creation_, who would be a controllable alien force that the Confederates could easily unleash on their opponents without the backlash of the responsibility being pinned on them, like it was with the nuclear holocaust of Korhal. After all, _who could suspect the Zerg were their creation?_ And the irony and disgrace of it is that they would be lauded for coming and destroying the Zerg as _heroes,_ shiny knights and paladins who would come in the nick of time and save men and country from the monsters, without no one knowing the hypocrisy of Confederates' devious plot. Of course, Raynor would discover later with the Protoss that the Zerg's creation actually belonged to another species and realize the Confederates could not devise such terrible enemy on their own, especially one they could not tightly control.

The Lurker, on other matters, was a special strain of Zerg, derived from the mutation of a single Hydralisk. It entirely changed it's anatomy from a snake-like creature to a spider-like one, with at least eight legs mobilizing a small body with a large spiked carapace head with four eyes. Despite the change in anatomy and it's head structure, the jaws somewhat remained the same as those of a Hydralisk. The Lurker came late in the Brood War, but quickly became feared for it's attack capability. While at first the Lurker seemed harmless while on the surface, the rules quickly changed when burrowed, digging below the surface and hiding into a virtually undetectable hole. It somehow unleashed a deadly wave of subterranean spines that followed in a single, straight line. These spines would then quickly pop into the surface, literally impaling anyone who dared come across them. Vehicles, mechanoids and especially entire infantry platoons had been lost due to the devious capacity of the Lurker, forcing field commanders to always bring in the heaviest of weapons as well as detection teams and thermal equipment to hunt down and destroy burrowed Lurkers before they caused further trouble to the already messy business that was fighting Zerg. Most of the times, Lurkers were utilized by the Zerg for defending positions or sieging fortified enemy lines while utilizing other expendable strains as meat shields, buying time for Lurkers to burrow.

"The study of such a species is primordial, Commander Raynor, even though you won't approve it.", protested Stratton, although with a modicum of respect. "Their regeneration capabilities, their adaptations, not to mention the weaknesses, as well as you'd like. I trust that you, being a soldier, would be much appreciated if you could kill each Zergling, Hydralisk or even Mutalisks with a single shot, thanks to my work.

"Were it that easy, Doc...", replied Raynor. "I might not be a scientist, but I've killed more Zerg on the field than you in a dissection table. And what I say it's that there's no '_easy_' when it comes to Zerg. You oughta play ignorant and improvise if you want to outlive them. Of course, that's when they're just sending damn Zerg after Zerg, like meat to the processing grinder, hoping the gears rot out with so much meat to grind. When they smarten up and start changing their routes, however... That's when all sense of strategy goes to hell. Nydus Worms, infestation, viruses, the Zerg didn't plan those without a reason. In resume, there's no strategy involved. You don't make fancy moves or organize men or artillery like in a rulebook. It's simple killing and moving on until it's either them dead... or you are."

Both Stratton, Valerian and even Kerrigan remained silent, impressed with Raynor's opinion on the Zerg. The problem was that he was right. There was no plan to follow when the Zerg are in the game, no way to predict what they can do. And enemies are most dangerous when they are unpredictable. Many would confuse the Zerg's sheer power and strength by numbers, running them into '_processing grinders'_, as Raynor would tell, for pure stupidity or predictable behavior, pretending Zerg were mindless beasts and monsters and nothing more, but that would be playing very ignorant. The Zerg, especially with Kerrigan in command, have become more cunning in their moves than their appearance could suggest. And this was displayed in their alternatives for plain, brute force.

First, there was the Nydus Worm, a giant worm-like alien akin to ones seen in science-fiction books that tunneled it's way below the surface's crust, opening an attack path that could deploy Zerg minions past fortified lines and inside installations at an alarming speed. To fight an enemy utilizing Nydus Worms was like fighting an infection that developed at an absurd speed, it's '_infection_' in form of more and more Zerg minions spreading if it was not destroyed as fast as possible, for the Nydus Worms would always bring more and more Zerg directly from the Hive Clusters through the Worm's throat.

Then, there was the infestation, a worse fate that a human can suffer, even worse than death. No medicine, no anesthetic, no academic knowledge or body preparation could prepare one suffering infestation for the pain of thumb finger thick spikes and pustules erupting throughout the body like cancer, cutting and infecting and twisting flesh to form either rigid shapes in form of claws or baseball bat sized spikes or tentacles, steadily growing thicker and thicker as the person's eyes and face twists to that of an abomination, a monster of it's former self, while a controlling voice continuously grows inside one's mind, twisting the brain further and further to make it submissive to the whim of the Zerg collective state known as the Hive Mind, as it ultimately turns into a fleshy mess of a person, a doll zombie ready to be used as a expendable meat shield, to kill and be killed in service to the Swarm. Infestation proceeded in several levels, from ones mostly known and common to Man's eyes to strictly designed ones, like was the case of Kerrigan, to severe abomination cases like the ones Raynor witnessed on planet Meinhoff, a Kel-Morian mining planet that had been victim of such a virulent infestation.

Finally, there were the viral and acid agents the Zerg developed and constantly utilized in combination with the brute force of their minions. Acid that could corrode the mightiest or thickest of Neosteel plating and viral agents that could paralyze, infect, eat through metal and flesh or drive entire populations mad, into an involuntary killing frenzy or an infestation process. For this, the Zerg developed special strains capable of carrying such viruses with speed and safety, without the worry of an accidental spread or waste of useful viral material in the wrong place. After all, for the Zerg, there was no such word as '_accident_'.

"Interesting...", commented Stratton, obviously dumbstruck. "From a grunt's point of view."

"I'd listen to him if I were you.", Kerrigan said. "He's a Zerg magnet, but he always managed to come out on top almost every single time."

This comment made Raynor smirk a bit, looking at Kerrigan.

"Actually, Commander Raynor, my father could resume your point of view in a saying he always recited to me, saying it's the first rule to ruling the Dominion: _When the Zerg are the topic of the conversation, the niceties go out the airlock._", commented Valerian on the matter.

Raynor had to admit, for a bastard the Crown Prince's father was, that was pretty good phrase, especially if one had fought the Zerg before.

"Provided you have an airlock to spew them out.", Raynor said, making an attempt at a joke. "If these Zerg aren't flying, at least."

"Well, taking a ride on the lieu of the conversation, I organized the dinner to talk this matter with the three of you, and know if you'll approve or not the purpose of tomorrow's test.", Stratton said. The room suddenly became silent, as the three other people stopped their dinning and Kerrigan looked at Stratton in the eye. Her face was the most serious. She didn't want to talk about it, but it seemed the dinner was just a way to smooth things a bit. Something Kerrigan didn't like, much less being hassled around when she could be talked straight to the point.

"Let me guess, Stratton.", Kerrigan started. "You want to know if I can still control Zerg."

Raynor and Valerian then looked at Stratton with a serious face, having heard what Kerrigan said. Stratton, however, expected that. He let out a heavy sigh breath before continuing.

"Afraid so.", Stratton said. "I'm sorry if I didn't mention this as a part of your recovery regimen, but I couldn't afford a break out attempt-"

"Then suffice to say I simply won't participate in this test.", interrupted Kerrigan. "And before you ask anything, doctor, it's not about being afraid or not knowing if I can still do it after what happened. It's my choice. _I simply won't do it._"

Stratton was a bit upset. This was not what he expected to hear. Not on the denial of experimenting with the Zerg, but Kerrigan's _willingness_ in not wanting to have to do with any of it.

"But, miss Kerrigan, that is-", Stratton started when the lady interrupted him again.

"I was told what I came to be, how I came to be.", Kerrigan said, looking dead serious and not even blinking an eye. "Whoever that person was, I won't be. I won't even try to come back, and that includes having to control Zerg. So if you want to lock me up, Stratton, do it. But I won't trail _any_ of that path again."

Stratton seemed a bit lost, trying to find words on what to argue about what she said. On her persistence on her decision.

"I.. I understand, Kerrigan, but _how good is it going to be now?_", asked Stratton, seemingly a bit nervous. "Practically you are the most reviled woman ever known in today's galaxy. And not just the appearance issue. Your deeds as your infested self speak against you. Families shattered apart, a species without a homeworld, billions who'll never live again, for either you and your Zerg killed them-"

"Hey!", Raynor shouted, trying to interrupt, but Stratton continued.

"-_or infested them!_ I'm sorry, mister Raynor, but even you can't hold the truth from her. Not the way things currently are.", Stratton said, stopping to look seriously at Raynor. Then, he returned his attention to Kerrigan. "That's why I ask: Even if you keep your promise, where would you go? What would you do? How would you even manage to _live_ another day?"

Kerrigan damned herself, but she pondered at the question and knew Stratton had a point. She had absolutely no idea of how to live with all that happened to her, all courses leading down to the outcome of being forever pursued, feared, hated and reviled as a monster. Still, she wouldn't give in. Not to him, at least, no matter how right he was.

"I'll find a way, Stratton.", Kerrigan answered. "Me and Jim. But I won't want anything to do with Zerg again.", looking at Raynor in the eye. "_No more._"

Raynor looked for some seconds that seemed an eternity at Kerrigan, and he then knew she wouldn't give up on him. She couldn't. Raynor only looked at her with pride in her decision, which he knew somewhere it was hers, not anyone's.

"That's the Sarah I know.", said Raynor, with a bit of pride. Then, he shifted attentions to Valerian. "And you, Junior? You against it or what?"

Then, all eyes turned on Valerian. Like if he was the maker of some final decision, like if something could happen when he spouted a single word. He only looked back at them, like if he was trying to make something up for what was coming next.

"I swore to myself I'd not be like my father.", Valerian said, albeit in resignation. "You may leave if you want, after we are done with the other tests tomorrow."

"Good.", spoke Raynor. "We'll be taking a break shortly, then find out what should we do concerning-"

**BOOM!**

The loud sound accompanied with a violent tremor, enough to make Kerrigan and Raynor fall off to the ground and push Valerian and Stratton towards the table was all the proof needed to realize an explosion occurred. Everyone was a bit surprised at it, as Raynor and Kerrigan got on their feet, angry, wondering what the hell caused it. A loud klaxon alarm sounded out through the entire facility, as Stratton and Valerian got up as well. Stratton picked up a small personal tablet that was his communication device, linking it to the security section in '_Verhoeven_'.

"Pyle!", shouted Stratton, angry. "This is Stratton?"

"Sir?", a gruff voice was heard on the other side.

"What's happening!?", asked Stratton, as a second tremor accompanied with an explosion shook the facility again.

"Battlecruisers firing at us, coming at Drop Pod range!", shouted the voice. "We're trying to hail them, but won't answer. They took out the primary anti-air batteries!"

Raynor, Kerrigan and Valerian heard the voice, coming out loud on Stratton's communicator. None of them had to be genius to realize the obvious. The facility was under attack. And Raynor was certain of who could be doing such a thing.

"No...", whispered Raynor.

"_Arcturus._", said Kerrigan, bitterly.

"ETA for possible breach attempt?", asked Stratton to the communicator.

"Within five minutes, perhaps less.", answered Pyle.

"We gotta get outta here, now!", said Raynor, alarmed.

"No one is going anywhere!", censored Kerrigan, obviously angry. "Enough running!"

"Sarah, if you die, you won't be able to fight Mengsk!", urged Valerian. "We get out and regroup, then we decide how to fight back!"

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a panicky scenario of a corridor full of people running, both scientists and Marines. A group of red Marines, doubtlessly Valerian's personnel, entered the room. One of those Marines had it's visor open and was carrying an auto-cannon. His face was doubtlessly African-american, according to Kerrigan's sight.

"Boss, your daddy's raining Drop Pods in here!", screamed Sergeant Reamer to Valerian. "We gotta evac the fekk out!"

"Reamer, take point!", Raynor shouted. "We're arming up, then we'll fight to the evac bays."

"What, you're my boss, now?", asked Reamer, a bit upset.

"Do as he says, Sergeant!", ordered Valerian. "He knows what he's doing!"

"Let's go, Sarah!", Raynor said. Kerrigan joined him, both coming closer to the red Marines she knew they belonged to the Dominion, but weren't fighting for Mengsk. Not now, it seemed. Reamer saw the half-Zerg lady and was a bit shocked.

"The lady too?", he asked. "Talk about getting out of the fridge and into the fire!"

"_What else is new?_", asked Kerrigan, sarcastically.

On the other side, Stratton remained on the communicator, shouting orders to Pyle. He started to walk with Valerian to the door as well.

"Pyle, general order 13!", ordered Stratton. "We're vacating the facility!"

"Able, take a few men, you're escorting Prince Valerian the other way!", Reamer ordered to one of the Dominion Marines, with a closed visor.

"Yes, sir!", answered Corporal Able. "Prince Valerian, if you'll follow me to Area 4."

"Let's go!", shouted Reamer to the men.

Therefore, the mass of people and Marines split into two. A few Marines under Sergeant Reamer escorted Raynor and Kerrigan forward down the corridor while Able and the remaining men went left side, escorting Stratton, Valerian and a few scientists. Kerrigan took notice of Valerian leaving with Stratton.

"Great.", Kerrigan commented, sarcastically. "_And there he goes, chickening out in his VIP ride..._"

"He's not getting better chances riding with us, darlin'.", Raynor said, in Valerian's defense. "Doubt he can even fire a gun."

"Good point.", Kerrigan agreed in regret. "Damn..."

* * *

It was technically night in planet Phaeton, and the sandstorms had shifted away at last. A curtain of starts enlightened the scene of the hill cliff where the towering _'Verhoeven'_ research facility lied, forming an artificial man-made spike to a natural environment, the way the facility was designed outside. The bright white moon, resembling that of old Earth, could be seen afar to further decorate the scene.

Another decoration were the explosions and the muzzle fire of the massive hammerhead shaped _'Minotaur'_ class Battlecruisers, all raining down a firestorm in the once peaceful building. Then, muzzle fire starting spewing back towards the Battlecruisers. The facility started to fire back at it's aggressors.

For Captain Lilith Daniels, seeing the scene on the viewing window of the Wrath, it was sad. _Sad and unnecessary._ It was pretty imbecile to be shooting fellow men when they could be working together against the Zerg and Protoss. Unfortunately, Terrans didn't change over the last centuries and wouldn't change at all. There would still be disparity instead of a single society, where greed and power lust would drive brother against brother. On this case, it was power. Power the Umojans could have, should they succeed in discovering the secrets from the fallen Queen of Blades. Secrets that could threaten the Dominion's very existence.

Lilith Daniels was a woman of belief. Belief that a new horizon could dawn for the hearts of Man. A horizon without the threat of aliens and rebels and criminals threatening the common man. A horizon where people could be united under a banner, a color, a name. Multiple banners and colors were a messy business. They would intervene in the way of the best interests of the Dominion and it's Emperor. They could ally with their enemies, enemies that dared to threaten Man's very existence, all for the sake of more and more. More wealth. More power. More material lust and desire they would not be able to carry forward to the afterlife. Material wealth that would remain behind after the dying would pass through the Highest Venture.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by her second-in-command and Number One of the ship, Feud Thorne. "Ma'am, we have incoming transmission, from the _White Star._", he said.

She then turned around and left the viewing window, stepping down the frontal steps to reach the Star Map.

"Put it through.", she said.

The image of the Star Map, a green transparent display of the Koprulu Sector with Cartesian navigational circles, changed to a transmission screen showing the face of the Dominion Emperor himself.

"Report.", ordered Arcturus Mengsk.

"Primary anti-capital batteries disabled, secondary anti-air batteries to be neutralized within the hour.", answered Lilith. "In range to start Drop Pod boarding operations."

"Good. Deploy all ground units.", Mengsk said. "I want the facility secured and very tightly. Spare no personnel."

"Even Bravo unit?", asked Lilith.

"_Especially_ Bravo unit.", Mengsk said, finalizing the transmission. Lilith turned towards Thorne.

"Number One, issue alert five, execute Steel Rain protocol.", she ordered. "And alert Bravo to suit up. Terra has some work cut out for her."

* * *

Reamer's battle group reached a T-intersection, forcing the group to turn right, as the left didn't led access to the Armory room, an area especially restricted to Umojan personnel, and not just for the weapons. The Armory seemed to be able to dismount and mount back Marine armor in personnel, and Raynor remembered he unloaded his customized Marine armor there in the first place. The corridor ahead seemed to end, but it was actually a L-shaped turn to the left. Suddenly, a call caught Reamer's attention, coming from his superior officer.

"Reamer, one of the trackers is reading a group headed to the Armory, you'll stumble with them head on!", warned Valerian on the intercom.

"Thanks for the warning, boss!", replied Reamer, before the Prince shut down. "Lock 'n load, men! Real peach of a trouble on our way!"

"What else is new!?", answered Raynor, already nervous from the jogging. He didn't remember running this much since boot camp training in his early years in the Confederate Rangers.

Suddenly, forward ahead, a group of Marines in red clad plating started bursting out from the left turn, wearing the same colors as Reamer's men. The Sergeant, however, knew better.

"Tangos incoming!", shouted Reamer to Raynor and Kerrigan, opening Hell from his six-barreled minigun. "**Get to cover!**"

"Full fire!", screamed one of Reamer's men as he pointed his C-14, pulling the trigger and starting to unleash his compact fire volley. The rest of Valerian-loyal Marines followed, starting a ridiculous, but sad display of Dominion troopers killing Dominion troopers.

The three first Dominion Marines caught by the fire of their comrades, fell down easily, forcing the others to fall back and take cover in the corner. Raynor and Kerrigan went to one of the beveled plates of the futuristic Umojan wall plates and ducked there. They could hear shouting and swearing from the Dominion Marines obviously sent from Mengsk far ahead.

"What the-", said one of the Dominion Marines, alarmed. "Why are they firing? We're friendlies!"

"Freaking traitors!", shouted another. "They're helping Raynor and the alien whore! Open up on them!"

Contrary to what was seen in traditional action movies, gunfights with cover were a messy business, especially because of the plating of the Umojan wall plates, meant to deflect small arms fire. Especially when fighting people hiding in a L-shaped edge cover to reach an optimal firing line. No matter how many times people fired, those being fired upon could always fall a bit back and avoid the majority of the bullets being spilled by the aggressor. The only chance to counter this cover is to either get this cover advantage first or, on the hard way, try to dash forward and risk receiving fire from the remainder of the firing group on the other side.

Some Mengsk-loyal Marines took the chance to duck or lay on their knees as they used the cover to their advantage, starting to fire back at Reamer's group. Reamer damned himself at the time, as he couldn't bring in the grenades he could lob at this group, unleashing some fire and fury, wounding some people and raising smoke and confusion he could use to advance and clear house. The problem was, Umojan security didn't allow it. And it became already troubling to bring in his favorite minigun, requiring Valerian's direct intervention on the matter just to pass through the checkpoints.

Some muzzle from the spilled C-14 Gauss managed to hit one of Reamer's Marines, having him drop his rifle and fall into the ground. It was the first casualty in Reamer's group.

"Walenski!", screamed Reamer, seeing his drinking comrade fall.

In the wall plate cover, Kerrigan had sensed the death of this Marine. She wanted to intervene, but Raynor held her before. But no more. She released herself from his grip and approached Reamer's group, her eyes starting to glow a fierce golden yellow as the fever of battle and fury overtook her. She extended her right hand to the L-shaped curve, and then something strange happened.

A strange grip overtook Mengsk's Marine group, not knowing what was doing it or where it came from. Suddenly, they felt a pull, as they were all pulled forward and hit a wall in the last place any of them wanted to be: In full range of Reamer's firing squad. The African-american didn't understand at first, but he didn't miss the opportunity either. He unleashed the minigun on the Marine dog pile, neutralizing all of them in one swift and deadly fire volley.

Trying to understand what was going on, Reamer only needed to look back to see Kerrigan in his back. All questions he had were answered be looking at her. Kerrigan was a psionic, and she used her Psionic Grip to pull those Marines into Reamer's firing line. Her power was enough to end what would be a complicated and long gunfight and save the squadron.

"Appreciated, lady.", spoke Reamer.

"Appreciate later, I need a gun and I need it now!", Kerrigan said, obviously angry.

"You need a gun, darlin', I'm sure needing some armor!", Raynor commented, getting on his feet and leaving cover. He then approached Sarah. "Can you tell me what the hell were you doing?"

"Helping out, Jim.", Kerrigan answered, serious.

"_By trying to get yourself killed?_", Raynor asked, angry. Kerrigan stopped in her tracks to face him.

"Jim, I like you, I understand you care about me and you don't want to lose me again, but don't think for one minute I'm some fairytale princess who can't defend herself and needs a knight or a plumber to help out.", Kerrigan said.

"Hey, can the honeymoon couple leave the bromance for later!?", Reamer asked, furious. "We gotta hitch to the Armory!"

With matters concluded, the group made the turn and ran forward, leaving the dead dog pile of Marines behind.

Hours before, Ground Group Charlie had been assembled aboard the Battlecruiser _Agamemnon_ for the assignment of sweeping through the 13th Level of the towering research facility codenamed '_Verhoeven_' by the Umojan Protectorate. They would carry only rifles for this particular level, as Dominion Forward Intelligence anticipated light to no resistance from security personnel. All they had to do was shoot down any joker trying to play hero and secure the level to avoid any escape or resistance focus. One of them wished to file a complaint about no one forseeing a one-woman army helping a small squad of traitor Dominion personnel to clear the level.

Unfortunately, no one was alive to report even a cry for help, not after what Sarah Kerrigan did.

* * *

At last, it was going to happen. A new chance had been delivered. This time he was not going to screw up. Too many screw ups have been done over the last weeks for him to let this happen again.

At least, it was the way Arcturus Mengsk was going to play, now that he approached Phaeton aboard the modern-crafted flagship _White Star._ He simply stood by the viewing side window of the newly redesigned Bridge, as the entire Dominion Armada started to surround the planet. This time, he elaborated to bring everything with him and literally bring everything down raining upon his enemies. He only had to later thank that scientist, that Doctor Narud, for his most valuable contribution, perhaps hand him a personal reward for community service in his civic duty. Mengsk's forward satellite probes had encountered both his son's stolen flagship, the _Bucephalus_, and his own former flagship, _Hyperion_, from the times he led the Sons of Korhal. He knew Raynor, Valerian and Kerrigan would be there, otherwise, these ships wouldn't be orbiting the planet. His probes also found a single, lone man-made facility on the surface, towering a hilltop cliff. This must have been the facility those three have been cowering from his swift and terrible vengeance for the last days.

And now, he would end the story there, once and for all, and no one would dare stop him again. No one could stop him this time.

The Dominion Battlecruisers had effectively blocked the planet's orbit, even proceeding to bombard the renegade ships, forcing them away from the planet's orbit, and, especially, from the facility codenamed '_Verhoeven_' by the Umojan Protectorate. The Protectorate that once helped Mengsk fight the Confederacy was now siding against him, sheltering war criminals and terrorists. This time, he would throw everything: Air fighters would literally swarm the facility to avoid escapes by Dropships or Hercules-class transports. The Battlecruisers would not hesitate to open full fire on the _Hyperion_ or the Bucephalus to ensure to valiant comic book escape attempts wouldn't happen. There was, of course, the risk of a bait strategy, in an attempt to pick the Battlecruisers off one by one, but he gave strict orders to not break off, by any means. He wouldn't allow the risk of opening gaps in the blockade so Horner could get through.

On the ground, infantry teams would be spilled by the hundreds on Drop Pods within the hour, clamping down the facility and it's security and blocking all any exits, by force of men or exploding them. Artillery and heavy weapons would be set outside, to ensure that the job is more than done, especially concerning a dangerous psionic like Kerrigan or any stunt Raynor might pull off. A command center would be established nearby, for emergency cases should any unforseen contingency come up and change the status quo of this operation.

Of course, this came in a cost. He had to withdraw practically most of the Dominion forces from most battlezones, including the orbit of Char or the fringe worlds, despite most protests. But, to deal with those who tormented him for so long, he'd pay twice or even thrice or even a hundred or thousand times the price of losing a few worlds and public opinion, which was already in shambles thanks to Raynor's work. He would end it, right there and right now. He would end their lives.

Sarah Kerrigan. The woman who murdered his family. The woman he thought he killed, but he was wrong. The woman who'd became the haunt of his nightmares time and again, as millions of his subjects and associates died to her actions and the Swarm she commanded.

Jim Raynor, the sentimental terrorist who opposed him for the love of a murderess. The man who undermined his efforts time and again, as he exposed Mengsk's moves in Tarsonis, utilizing a weapon Mengsk developed in a far moon to raid the television studios in Augustgrad, the capital city of Korhal, making him the most unpopular person in the whole Sector. The man who had denied his revenge, but no longer.

Valerian Mengsk. The failed son. The _sentimental_ one, more interested in digging alien artifacts and believing in values contrary to Dominion interests of power. The son who now betrays his father by consorting with the enemy. Man's laws forced him to don Valerian his colors and his name since even DNA could not prove that he was not his son. He could not be, too weak to pursue his place and too superstitious to believe in his own making of fate.

It would all end there, on that dusty planet. There, they would be buried and forgotten forever by all. There was the risk of Raynor becoming a martyr to the commoner's eye, but that could be dealt with later. He closed his pocket watch, reminiscent of the old clocks of the 19th Century, and turned around, walking towards the Starmap on this flat bridge.

Pretty much like it was with Valerian's vessel, the _Bucephalus_, this bridge was entirely flat and reminded more of a royal room than an actual military command section. Golden plated details combined with the silver-clad metal on the walls and ground. Computer consoles spread through out the walls without windows were being operated by the finest operators, that Mengsk himself handpicked for their abilities. Alongside the golden and silver floor, extended a long red carpet that beared a geometric symbol, that, if read right, reminded a strong arm bearing a whip. The symbol of the Dominion, previously adapted from the old, circular one of the Sons of Korhal. He reached towards the Star Map table and his trusted Number One, Captain Ethel Hardscape. Hardscape was a bald caucasian person, approaching his fifties, with the remainder of his few white hair extending alongside the sides of his head. Unlike other ship captains, however, he wore a very strict military attire, including a social shirt with a black long tie extending down, cut down by his black social jacket.

Hardscape noticed the Emperor approaching forward and saluting him. He handed Mengsk a file of the situation report.

"The latest report has come in, Emperor.", said Hardscape. "Minimal resistance encountered by the Umojan personnel, our units have captured the main security room, but ground teams have reported soldiers wearing Dominion colors firing on our ground teams. We have had ten confirmed casualties and we lost contact with an entire Ground Group."

Mengsk dismissed the report. Hardscape simply stowed the file beneath his right shoulder.

"_Traitors to Man._", answered Mengsk. "My son now dares sway people to kill those loyal to the Dominion. Another sign of his betrayal.", he added. He then turned to the Star Map table. "Open a channel, Agent X41822N."

The Star Map made a bleeping sound, where, instead of a transmission video face, came in two columns with lines representing soundwave currents.

"Sir?", answered a voice coming from the Star Map table, doubtlessly female.

"The time has time... Nova.", replied Mengsk, with a proud voice. "Time for your greatest test."

* * *

The running across the corridors has not been easy. There has not been anymore Dominion forces coming across their way, but the Armory had the most unfortunate of annoyances to stay on the other side of the facility, on the same level where Kerrigan, Raynor, Reamer and his squadron had been moving into. They wished they arrived soon. Judging by how violently the facility was being bombarded, Raynor guessed Mengsk's patience had reached it's limit. They had to get out, and get out fast.

The group stopped when they reached a heavily armored square door, with a glowing red hologram showing a white warning triangle with an exclamation mark. This meant this door was locked down and would not be accessed unless by authorized personnel.

"Beautiful, Umojan security locked it!", shouted one of Reamer's men, obviously frustrated. "And we don't have a fekking key!"

"Language, Stokes!", censored Reamer. "I'm the only one in here authorized to swear, got it?"

Kerrigan, on Raynor's side and behind the Marines before the locked door, stepped forward.

"Step out, I'll force it open.", Kerrigan said.

"Sarah, won't it-", Raynor said, but Kerrigan interrupted him.

"_There's no time, Jim!_", Kerrigan said, stressed. "I have to take the risk!"

Her eyes glowed on the same golden yellow as people came to know she would use her powers again. Her right hand clenched into a fist and her arm reared, like if she was to punch the door at a long distance. A strange yellow-orange energy started glowing from her fist, and when it was fully bright, she rapidly and fiercely brought it forward, towards the door. This energy bursted out and hit it's target, forcing the door forward, with the strength of a million men, which was enough to force it out the opening, clearing the entry and shattering a whole piece in seveal. The door pieces flew forward, some falling quickly and hitting the ground and other traveling far, hitting the forward wall where a rifle gun rack was, destroying it and making the guns useless.

Impressed with the Kinetic Blast Kerrigan unleashed, Reamer, Raynor and others started entering the Armory room. It was a large, squary room, with only a side door close to the entrance door Kerrigan forced open, that led to the Mounting Section, where Marines could mount and dismount their CMC suits in a complicated mechanical operation, that took close to five minutes. Aside from that, there was gun racks containing weapons of all sorts and styles, from the traditional C-14 Gauss rifle, passing through some C-20A Canister with their trademark aim scopes, HEV rifles that were a heavier variant of the C-20A designed for Marines, and that fired explosive rounds, and a particular rack with miniguns akin to the one Reamer was using. There were boxes and cabinets filled with supplies, probably ammunition and stimulant packs, Stim Packs for short, that Marines injected to increase combat potential, albeit at the cost of their own physical health and mental sanity.

"Door cover, Reamer! Will be right back!", ordered Raynor, already heading sideways, to the Mounting Section. Unlike the access door, this one was not locked and opened automatically as Raynor pressed the opening button on the right side.

"Oh, right, brother, I forgot, I'm just a melonhead!", commented Reamer, staying in the door and gesturing ironically.

Meanwhile, Kerrigan and the others stepped forward, towards the gun racks and supply crates. The lady herself directed to the rack containing two C20-A rifles, forcing the lock and grate out and picking up a rifle. She then opened a cabinet, where lied a few full rifle clips. She picked one of them, loading it into the empty magazine slot and then cocking the rifle, fully loading it and having it prepared to fire. She also moved a tiny switch close to the trigger, unlocking the gun's ability to shoot. She let out a small sigh and her face changed to one of regret and sorrow, remembering of old times when she used this and other types of rifles with sniping capability, particularly the old and abnormally large BOSUN FN92, to kill in service to the old Confederacy. However, she let those thoughts aside and her face turned back into a fierce one. Now and there was not the time or place for those thoughts, not with hell breaking loose and knocking on the door.

"Get all the ammo, and I mean everything!", shouted Kerrigan, in a warning tone. "We're not coming back in here!"

Suddenly, an ominous voice boomed and echoed out through out the Armory room and out the corridors, coming from the compact sound boxes installed along the corridor walls on the facility. A voice Kerrigan recognized.

_"Verhoeven Facility, this is the Emperor you should have been serving!"_, said the voice of Arcturus Mengsk, in all the prepotence he could muster. _"I'm only saying this once, so listen very well! We know who you have inside, so that means you know why we've come. This time, I'm not making compromises, I'll do whatever it takes to see to it that the Queen of Blades and the criminal Jim Raynor are in Dominion custody, even demolishing this entire facility to the very ground if I have to! Prince Valerian, my son, has no authority over you anymore! He's as guilty of treason as anyone who even dares to aid the criminals in an escape attempt! Surrender to Dominion authority and I may show you mercy. As for you, Kerrigan and Raynor, don't make this anymore harder. Don't even bother to. You can't slip away this time. And I bullshit you not, I'll personally make sure you won't!"_

_'Son of a bitch.'_, Kerrigan thought, making an angry face as the transmission ended. After those four years without listening to his voice, he still remained as arrogant as he could get, something that was unbearable most of the times she heard him. After he left her behind on Tarsonis, his tone was no longer inspiring, but infuriating.

"Isn't he a mouth-runner?", said a radio voice coming from behind her. As she turned, she's seen the source of it coming from a black Marine armor holding a C-14 that seemed to come from the Mounting Section, with a drawn spiraled Zerg tail on one of the shoulders and a makeshift skull decal on the orange glass helmet visor. The visor opened up, revealing the face of her loved one, Jim Raynor. She had to admit, for a Dark Knight in shining armor, he always looked better in that suit than outside it. She came closer, holding her rifle, letting out a smile on the man that was always her rescuer, her lover and her brother in arms. In the background, Reamer's Marines had picked up all they could and left the Armory, only waiting Raynor and Kerrigan, who were still there, looking one another.

"Y'know, kinda missed you holding that rifle.", he commented, letting out a smirk, leaning forward a bit so his face was on the same height as Kerrigan's.

"Me too.", Kerrigan said, as she approached her face closer. She knew what she wanted. And he accepted it too.

Lips closed on one another in a brief, but remarkable kiss both parties would remember for a long time. From this time, both knew she would be his and he would be hers for a long time, despite everything could happen now or later. She let go of him with a smirk, accepting the ties she finally made up with him.

"Let's get to work.", she said, calmly and with a smile. Walking towards the Armory door she ripped off a while ago.

Raynor stayed there, seeing his princess going out, exactly like the one he met on that dusty rock ball called Antiga Prime. Despite the hair and the new skimpy suit, she, somewhere inside, remained the same girl he came to know while bringing a government down. His smirk evolved to a face of full bravery, typical of knights in dark stories who just attained a new, good reason to fight on. He followed her to the outside corridor.

"Okay, boys, we're back in the saddle!", Raynor said, his voice now sounding confident and reinvigorated. "Let's move out!"

Once, Raynor stated that there were reasons worth passing through Fire and Fury. Reasons worth threading through Hell and fight the monsters. Some things that were just worth fighting for.

The woman he followed was one of the reasons. Not one reason. She was all the reason he needed.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENT:**_

And now, in the words of the bard, it's where it lies the rub and the crackdown starts. Well, hoped it was at least a good introduction time on the Terran's part. Some people will find it that those gunfights were just a little bit too easy, too silly or too corny for the StarCraft genre. Well, in a technical term, that'd be true if were talking about the mission gameplay itself, but this is a Fanfiction chapter, not a map. Here is where we can try to make stuff as more _realistically _or close to realism as possible. Here is where we can see bullets piercing through armor, Marauder grenades tearing up Marines to pieces (In some classic _'Expendables'_ memories, especially Dolph Lundgren and his grenade launcher, that was memorable.), sniper rounds and environments that would not or couldn't be applied to your everyday Blizzard gameplay.

Speaking of which, there's a review stating this is realistic, but I differ to disagree. As I stated in the disclaimer, you can't take this story seriously, despite how good it feels to read something solid, you never could take anything seriously with any Blizzard games at all.

In other matters, the next chapter, I think, will include a very high point in the game (Before, you get any thoughts, however, no, it's not the separation part... yet.), and one that, I think, you'll think Blizzard should have included it, be it in a cutscene or, spoilers, a boss fight.

Now, to talk about this chapter. I hope the explanations concerning the Lurker, Nydus Worm, infestation and stuff didn't break much of the immersion of reading, in the dining room scene. It sounds indeed a little silly, and I'd like to apologize for putting those, but I like to think people that read this know little to nothing of the StarCraft universe. Then, there's character development, I felt Kerrigan and Raynor here indeed deserved more attention, particularly before the battle and during the Armory scene, but I thought too much of the gunfight here as well as the battles in the next chapters. Suffice to say I used Peptuck's writing in his cancelled Tiberium Wars novelization, here in (Very good, speaking of which), as reference material for gunfight and combat and stuff. Hope I didn't mess up on that part, as a lot of fights occur through _Heart of the Swarm._

Also, returning to Kerrigan, some people have spoken about that the hug in the previous chapter was a bit too... stupid. I agree with that, but I swore to myself the romance would not screw up in here, somewhat like it did in Wings of Liberty, going to the limits of forsaking Preator Fenix and what Kerrigan did to him so Raynor could rescue her and the story would go on. Speaking of Fenix, that SINGLE reference in Raynor's breakout cutscene (Pretty stupid, IMO, especially when Kerrigan puts herself in his gunpoint.), I didn't like it. It sounded like, in there, Metzen just put his name in the infamous 'Oh, we better not forget him or people are going to be talking about for the next two years!'. Blizzard has the unhappy tendency of forsaking characters, especially ones people like, such as Lothar, Daelin Proudmoore and the heroes in Warcraft II's expansion, _Beyond the Dark Portal_, as if nothing happened, only mentioning them when the time convenes so. And that's only mentioning their oldest RTS product. So, returning to Kerrigan, as I obviously veered off course, the point is, I don't want to exaggerate on the love story. There'll be strong parts, true, but these are calculated ones and for the sake of the plot, but nothing so plastic as it was in _Heart of the Swarm_. '_Like riding a bike'_? Really!? That scene deserved a little bit more effort.

Well, can't say anything else now. At least, none other than to ask your comment and critics on this one, but at least in more stuff than the usual, concerning Raynor and Kerrigan's lack of character here. If you want to critic, that is. Until next week!


	6. Chapter IV - Muzzle Fire and Catfights

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER IV - MUZZLE FIRE AND CATFIGHTS**

* * *

**UMOJAN RESEARCH FACILITY 'VERHOEVEN' - PHAETON**  
**NIGHT TIME.**

Red lights and a loud, repeating klaxon boomed the corridor of the Umojan research facility. Afar, it could be heard the sounds of gunfire, explosions and screams, both male and female. Despite the intact appearance, the facility was under attack. This could be seen outside, with the strong suppressing muzzle fire being fired upon the building by the huge starships, as well as the few gun turrets the facility was firing back at the assaulting Dominion fleet. On other levels, however, it was chaos manifest, as large Drop Pods rammed down the walls, roofs and floors of the installation, letting their stored Marines and Marauders outside to fight all hostile personnel and secure the facility and it's contents, especially the people inside, in the name of Emperor Mengsk.

One of these drop pods just forced it's way through the wall on this corridor, twisting open the plates through brute force until there was only a distorted mass of metal, all laid bare open so the Drop Pod could hit the floor and allow passage to the people who would leave it. A large explosion and metal twisting sounds incurred in the process.

The Drop Pod was large and tall, resembling an egg shape while in mid air. The tip of the egg was purely dense metal, meant to open as much way as possible into the metal plating of the facility, like a worm when it digs through the earth, using brute force to make it's way. It was a chromed metal object with red colors and the symbol of the Dominion installed in one of it's unloading ports. Small explosions incurred in the folds and crevices of the port, that released any pressure or locks on it and made the port fall harmlessly into the ground, exposing the void inside, meant for people to be inside.

From it, a group of four Dominion Marine troopers came out of it, pointing their rifles in readiness for conflict, expecting an ambush or a welcoming committee. However, no one was seen or heard in the vicinity, after a short time.

"All clear!", shouted one of these Marines, ever ready to perform his duty. Then, another person came out the drop pod. A female person.

This woman was smaller and thinner than the Marines that had come aboard, due to the fact she was wearing no Marine armor. She instead was wearing a tight and white body suit that seemed to extend from her neck to her feet, with blue energy lines running along the suit. Over the white suit, she wore gray metal armor wear, on her shoulders, waist and knees, arms and torso, accompanied by a pair of combat boots. The arm pieces extended to black combat gloves and her torso, while on the back seemed like a compact backpack with a small power generator, her front seemed like a metal-clad bikini top running alongside. Her head was delicate yet harsh, with blue eyes and a small nose, and her hair being white-blond with the front having some strands fall naturally while her back held a ponytail, covered only by the eyepiece above, with extensions to the earpieces she used to communicate and receive field instructions. She held a C-20A Canister rifle for a weapon.

She was a Ghost. She was an assassin and an infiltrator, meant to think, not feel, act, not reflect. She was a professional, the best of the best, in the field of death. She was Agent X41822N. She was Nova Terra. She was a weapon for the Terran Dominion. No, she was more than a weapon. She was an angel of death. She was the extension of Emperor Mengsk's fury. She was the Grim Reaper incarnate.

Nova had put her right hand on the communicator that allowed contact with Special Task Force Foxtrot, comprised only of a few Ghosts like herself.

"All units. This is Nova, begin your sweep. Find Kerrigan. I'm headed to the main security room.", she said, starting to move forward.

"Roger.", answered a male voice in her intercom.

November Annabella Terra was no innocent woman turned assassin. She already had blood on her hands before she was conscripted into the Ghost Program. Her innocence died on Tarsonis, much before the fall of the Confederacy, along with the rest of her family. The menace of alien invasions and rebel terrorist attacks had forced them to send Nova into a transport to Tyrador IX that she never embarked. The images of her family being murdered by people contrary to the Old Families forced her to return home, where she witnessed the butchering of her loved ones. Her psionic potential was seen there, as the fires took up the highest levels of the Terra Skyscraper, killing the murderers along with innocent bystanders. This forced her out into exile, in the Gutter, in the company of murderers under a maniac crime chieftain, who used her as his psychic mind-reader toy. The relief came in the form of Marines sent by the Program to recruit her. By then the Confederacy fell and was replaced by the Dominion, where she started a life of hardship and murder, all while striving to forget the scars of old life.

But, after achieving her potential and even avenging the death of her family in the process, her mind was subject to memory wipe, that made her nothing but a weapon, a loyal soldier for Mengsk to play with. Not even after being friends then enemies with Gabriel Tosh, not even after escaping many critical situations and watching many people she'd known die and not remember it, she was allowed to have her memories. Emperor Mengsk couldn't take this risk. Allowing emotions and memories only gets in the way of the work, and sentimentalism or morals that would question the Dominion's methods weren't an option either.

And now, here she was, on this ground slate clean, to face her greatest trial since her recruitment: To fight one who was equal, if not superior to her, in the Psi Index.

Sarah Kerrigan. The Queen of Blades.

* * *

"Matt, can you hear me?", asked Raynor, as he put his hand on the intercom while moving through out the corridors with Kerrigan and Reamer's squadron. Still, no one found any other resistance than that group they found and neutralized on the way to the Armory, but, like it is with rain, more were sure to come on that level.

"About time, sir!", answered Raynor's friend, Matt Horner, on the intercom. Horner seemed nervous and under severe stress. "We thought they already killed you!"

"Arcturus sure likes to try!", Raynor commented. "How're you holding up?"

"Not good, sir!", Horner started. "The Dominion is clamping real hard around the facility! They scrambled every fighter to destroy any approaching or leaving transport, and there are more Dominion Battlecruisers warping in by the minute! We and the _Bucephalus_ tried a few times to break the lines, but we've had to pull back!"

"Damn!", Raynor cursed. "The son of a bitch isn't making it easy this time. What of the Defensive Matrix, can it hold?"

"Why do you think we're still alive, cowboy?", answered Raynor's second friend, Rory Swann. "Damn thing saved us from blowing up every time we tried a run!"

Kerrigan could look at Raynor's voice tone and could guess the situation was not good. She came closer to listen, but she knew Mengsk this time was not making things easy for any of them, as he promised minutes ago on the Armory.

Suddenly, she heard a third voice on the intercom, a gruff one, belonging to the former chief of the installation, Proctor Stratton.

"Commander Raynor, there is an alternative.", Stratton said. "We've built a secret reserve landing pad on the other side of the mountain for such situations. There is a Dropship there, meant for evacuating chief staff."

Raynor's face changed to one that seemed a divine light came atop of him. It was obvious the Umojans had thought out things even Raynor would not suspect, not even with the cunning in the world. And the Dominion's worry in wanting to control the facility would make them overlook alternative exit means. Such was the case of this secret landing pad, built up for cowardice reasons, but it was one that would make up a solid solution, after all.

"Secret landing pad!?", Raynor asked, surprised. "God bless the Umojans! How do we reach it?"

"You'll have to activate the power to the underground Tram Station.", answered Stratton. "You'll find the controls in the main security room, in the level below."

"That section is locked down tight.", Matt answered, attempting to dissuade Raynor. "It was one of the first places they occupied."

"Nothing is locked down to me.", answered a soft, feminine voice on the intercom. Raynor looked around and noticed Kerrigan had picked up an intercom as well, to communicate with the Hyperion.

"Kerrigan? You're-", Horner started, but the lady then interrupted.

"Leave it for later... _Matt._", answered Kerrigan, pressing a small device installed in her right year. "I've got a job to do."

Raynor did naught but put a smirk.

"That's the spirit, darling!", answered Raynor, all tall and proud. "Okay, people, get to the elevator."

The group started moving forward, across the maze of Umojan corridors, turning left in one intersection, reaching the elevator shafts when suddenly a loud explosion bursted in front of them with a violent tremor, forcing the group to stop their jogging. Kerrigan in particular turned her head around while Raynor put his left hand to cover the violent bright of the explosion fires. The fire and smoke ceased to reveal a metal shape Raynor and Reamer were too familiar with.

"Drop Pod!", screamed Reamer in alarm, as blasting sounds could be heard with the metal object. "Get ready!"

Suddenly, the Drop Pod's 'door' fell harmlessly into the ground, revealing a huge shape in it. A huge black shape, with a small metal helmet and bearing two large cannons for arms.

"_Marauder!_", screamed one of Reamer's Marines. "Concentrate fire!"

Thus, Raynor, Reamer, the Marines and Kerrigan started opening fire on the large, bulky black soldier. However, the bullets didn't do much on this one rather than spark and make him feel no pain at all.

"Armored!", shouted Raynor. "Lob a grenade!"

The Marauder raised his right cannon arm, aiming it at Raynor's direction and firing it in a loud _'thoomp'_ and a quick muzzle flash. Kerrigan dropped to the ground and Raynor strafed right as the massive 'Punisher' fragmentation grenade hit one of Reamer's Marines, having him lob back in a pool of blood as the grenade's impact opened a literal hole through the armor and hit his internal organs. The Marauder managed it's first kill. Reamer had a can-shaped grenade on his hand. He pulled the pin and thrown it on the Marauder's direction. The grenade exploded, throwing the Marauder down and a bit backwards.

Behind the heavy trooper, more hostiles came up in the form of Dominion Marines and muscular-shaped soldiers wearing an outfit and head masks Kerrigan was extremely familiar with. She got on her knees and quickly aimed her rifle, firing a loud shot that went straight for one of the muscular man's head. He fell down dead with the fire, becoming Kerrigan's first Ghost KIA after four years of absence. Reamer opened full fire on the rest as some attempted to shoot with C-20A Canister rifles of their own, obviously loaded with silencers, managing to wound one of the Marines in the shoulder. Despite this, Reamer's minigun volley swept the room, cleaning the majority of hostiles.

"I'm hit! I'm hit!", screamed the Marine, falling down to the wall, dropping his rifle. Then, the elevator shafts opened up on Reamer's left side.

"The elevator!", screamed Reamer. "MOVE!"

Raynor, Kerrigan and the Valerian-loyal Marines directed themselves into the open insides of the elevators. One of Reamer's men picked up the other, wounded by the Dominion Ghost's rifle shot. When they entered, they pressed the buttons according to the level where the main security room lied. The doors closed as the elevators started to travel downwards.

On the corridor, the Dominion troopers who stayed in cover had seen everything. One of them put up his hand on his helmet's intercom.

"Fleet Command, this is Bravo 5. Kerrigan spotted in elevators. She's going down.", spoke the soldier, as they went out of cover and headed to the now closed elevator entrances.

"Affirmative, deploying men to secure elevator shafts.", answered a female voice from the intercom.

* * *

_On the other side..._

It wasn't good. The situation was not good. That's what Valerian Mengsk thought, as he ran across the corridors with Proctor Stratton and the joint escort of Umojan Marines and Dominion soldiers loyal to the Prince instead of the Emperor.

Valerian, contrary to popular belief and his appearance, was not new to military invasions to installations. He had seen and witnessed through all the videos he could see, accompanied by military officers and specialists in Augustgrad, concerning these entrances through direct assaults, use of explosives to breach external walls or even insertions of Ghosts with cloaking technology, in certain, delicate situations. But this was an entirely different thing. He and the people around him had encountered multiple groups of Dominion hostiles along the way, time and again. It seemed his father had decided to bring down the entire Dominion military over the installation, hoping to choke and drown it in a sea of red soldiers. The few Dominion and Umojan Marines under Sergeant Reamer's sub-officer, Corporal Cain Able, had faced practically every type of infantry known in the Dominion: Firebats, Reapers, Marauders, Ghosts, not to mention the absurd number of Marines assaulting the facility. The worse of it is, not only they outnumbered Valerian and Stratton's escorts at least twenty to one, but those same escorts were quickly running out of ammunition.

Now, there they were again, closing in another corridor, being forced into cover as they were barred close to a T-shaped intersection, fighting a Dominion force taking cover there. Valerian, who was hiding in one of the wall plates, heard another loud thump hit the ground. Another Umojan Trooper was hit by the Dominion rifle squad. That was the problem with Umojans. Their isolationist nature never set them head on in a real fight against any force, thus, they lacked combat experience while the Dominion, despite their lowest technological prowess compared to the Umojans, knew what they would face and when. They had veterans for them to teach the newcomers the Second Golden Rule, meaning '_Kill or be Killed_'. The first was _'Take cover, or take a bullet in the head.'_. And this lesson the Umojans never learned, that must have been why that guy was the third Umojan soldier killed in the line of duty. None of those Umojans acted like genuine military personnel, looking for cover or conserving as much ammo on clear, direct hits as they could, they only seemed mall security guards with a heavy suit and a gun, paid to shoot any funny guy trying to peek in and not actual military invaders.

He looked at Stratton, who was at the opposing wall plate, taking cover as well. His face was obviously worried, and something told him neither of them or anyone would survive this.

"We need to figure something if we're getting out this!", shouted Valerian to Stratton, who only looked at him.

"Well, chief, don't ask me, I'm open to suggestions!", shouted Able, having managed to force one of the Dominion Marines trying a potshot into cover.

"Is there any alternatives than the corridor!?", asked Valerian to Stratton.

"I'm afraid not.", answered Stratton.

"Not even service areas, or something alike, _for crying out loud!?_", Valerian asked back, angry and frustrated by the answer. Being a sophisticated people, Valerian would be one to think they'd be competent enough to add a service-only access to the landing pad they were seeking to go. Corridors were direct, but also very dangerous, especially in this particular situation, with literal ten-men squadrons bursting every corner they went.

"They're at the lower level, and the nearest elevators are guarded!", shouted Stratton back. It wasn't good at all. Especially after one of Able's men went to the floor, letting out a loud thump and showing bullet holes in his armor.

"Martinez!", shouted Able, firing furiously at the cover.

Valerian looked at Stratton and the scientist looked back. It meant bad news. That was before something happened in that T-intersection.

Furious muzzle fire erupted from the right side of the intersection, racing to the left side and hitting the firing Dominion Marines without giving them any chance at shooting back. One of them tried leaving his cover and enter the corridor, but he was then gunned down by Valerian and Stratton's escort. Valerian, along with the rest of the people, if it could be seen through their visors, widened his eye aghast, wondering how the hell was that happening. He didn't even pray for a miracle and, lo and behold, there was one, cleaning house for him. He simply looked at Stratton and the doctor looked back.

"Stratton, is that...", Valerian started asking, but Stratton answered and completed it.

"It has to be!", Stratton said, coming on his feet with a smirk on his face. Valerian followed suit as the muzzle fire cleaning the Dominion hostiles ceased. Able and his troops ceased fire and pointed down their rifles. "Friendlies!?", he shouted to the corridor.

"Friendlies!", answered a gruff male voice across the intersection. "Hold your fire!"

Then came a scene Valerian wouldn't think he'd see in a situation like this: Reinforcements.

It came in the form of eight Umojan Marines, armed with their rifles and seeming to be guarding a person without any armor, just a dark grey suit akin to a technician and a military cap with the yellow-colored symbol of the Umojan Protectorate stitched into it. This non-suited person was a staunch one, with an overweight belly and thick arm. His facial features would make him see like he was a sixty-year old person. He beared a small mustache and thin, short hair, both being gray-black colored. He had a big nose though. Although Valerian didn't recognize this person, Stratton knew him as Pyle Hartman, chief of security of the '_Verhoeven_' facility. The Umojans stopped a bit when they saw those red-clad Marines, but remained only a bit calm when they saw those men did nothing. And, as these Dominion Marines could be seen carrying C-14 rifles of their own, they didn't seem prisoners, but rather allied troops, renegading against their Emperor.

"A bit of a mess in the main security room and a battle group made us stall a bit, chief.", started Pyle, coming closer to Stratton's group and saluting him, along with his Marine group. "Sorry about it."

"I'd say you got in time, Pyle.", answered Stratton, coming to greet him. "Status?"

"Way worse, Doctor.", answered Pyle. "It's literally raining lead and metal everywhere, and there are groups larger than the ones that took the main security room. All coming in by the minute. Not to mention the literal swarming their air force is making outside, looks like they don't want anyone to leave."

"Aren't you the master of the obvious?", asked Able back, with an ironic tone.

"Casualties?", asked Stratton.

"Eight lost in the siege, four more trying to get here.", answered Pyle. "_Verhoeven_'s a lost cause, doctor, we can't face that much."

"Yes, I noticed.", Valerian said, stepping in. "That's why we need to get to the landing pad ASAP."

"It will be troubling, boy.", Pyle said. "The closest pad is locked down pretty tight, doubt we together can try and take it.", he added, starting to look at the few friendly Dominion soldiers with Valerian. "Are those what you got left?"

"There's more, but we separated.", Valerian answered. "They're escorting Raynor and Kerrigan to your reserve landing pad."

"The one that uses the tram!?", asked Pyle. "It's suicide, they'll have to get the security room just to reprogram the power supply!"

"Raynor and Kerrigan can handle the groups on their own.", Valerian reassured. "If I know them like I do, they'll be fine."

"Still, we'll need more men. Can't you call them back?", asked Pyle.

"And leaving Raynor and Kerrigan alone!?", asked Valerian back, angry at the question. "I can't take that risk and I won't!"

"There won't be a risk, once they reach the tram.", answered Stratton to Valerian. "It's called secret for a reason, and that is because the Dominion hasn't found it... _yet._ When they reach the tram, they'll meet friendly personnel on the other side and the air space should be clear for take-off in the Dropship."

"How can you be sure? I need more than a guarantee.", asked Valerian back, a bit stressed.

"There can't be one I can show you right now.", answered Stratton back. "You may have to take some risk for yourself."

"He's right, boss.", answered Able. "Even princes oughta gamble sometimes..."

Valerian simply stood there, considering the options, but he knew Able was right. On this mess stood a risk, and it was one he had to take, even knowing he couldn't afford. The few men he had left couldn't be wasted, but neither Kerrigan and Raynor were expendable options. They were his golden ticket to proving people he was different from his father, they were his allies in the inevitable conflict to come, and to let them die would mean his father would win now and always. Also, there were those people around looking at him, knowing his decision would weight upon them. He then let out a heavy breathing in resignation. He sacrificed to let this all fall apart, and none of the sacrifices were pretty. And this one wouldn't.

"Alright then.", answered Valerian, turning around towards Able. "Able, contact Reamer and have him say nothing, just listen, so Raynor and Kerrigan won't listen. Tell him that once Kerrigan and Raynor are in the tram, he's to get him and his men in here. He's got more important work to do."

With this done, Able started activating his comm and repeating these instructions to Reamer, on the other side of the facility. Valerian simply looked down, hoping Kerrigan and Raynor were fine, hoping he didn't make a mistake and damning himself for the decision he just made.

Once, he promised on his mother's deathbed he would not become like his father.

Now, it seemed it was too hard to keep the promise. The chances of him breaking this promise were just too high now.

* * *

The ride in the elevator was a bit tight, given the size of the CMC suits. At least, according to Kerrigan, there wasn't any infernal, gleeful sweet sounding music playing. That was a small consolation in a sea of misfortunes. Raynor was behind her and didn't try to move and talk to her since they've entered the elevator. Not that he wanted to, but it was too tight, especially when there was a second Marine on his side carrying a minigun. Then, the doors opened, but they did not move. They waited a bit to hear something.

"All clear!", screamed a radio voice, coming from outside. Kerrigan, Raynor and Reamer stepped out, to meet more corridors, leading to different directions, this time. As the rest of the group came out of the three elevator shafts, they started moving right.

"Damn, I haven't been through tight spots like that since Antiga, remember?", asked Raynor to Kerrigan.

"I've seen tighter.", Kerrigan answered, reminding of all the vent shafts and air ducts she had crawl in old days. When those were even larger for a human being to pass, in other words.

The battle group came across a lenghty window set, on the other side bearing a large squary room with terminals, workstations and computers spread through out the lowest level, accessible through a stair. On some sections, where there were not workstations, were two two-sided tall lightboards, one containing the map of the 'Verhoeven' facility whose levels could be accessed through touch-screen. Afar, on the other wall, lied a large horizontal balcony corridor on the top that could be accessed through a side scaffold catwalk. On the access door, found to the right of those windows, a holographic blue plaque reading CENTRAL SECURITY - FACILITY PERSONNEL ONLY.

And there were people firing on one another: Eight Dominion Marines, that seemed to dominate the corridor leading to the insides of the main security terminals, were firing below on the few Umojan Marines that took cover on the workstations to protect themselves from the literal firestorm raining down on them. One of Reamer's Marines took notice of the gunfight.

"Sir, Umojans nine o'clock!", shouted the snooping Marine. "They're trying to capture the security room!"

The group ceased their tracks and noticed their target, and the Marines defending it.

"Think there's more after the corridor?", asked Raynor to Reamer.

"Why wouldn't that be a surprise, brother?", asked Reamer back. In the meanwhile, Kerrigan noticed a vent shaft to the right and a bit above the door. She knew then what to do.

"Help them out, Jim.", said Kerrigan. "I'll circle around and reach inside the room."

Raynor listened to her plan and didn't like it. It sounded like she was trying to work out on the front door, risking her neck on the Dominion troopers' line of fire.

"Hell no, Sarah! I'm sticking with you!", protested Raynor.

"They'll see you going with me, I have a better chance alone.", answered Kerrigan.

"How? You don't have a cloaker, you know.", answered Reamer.

Kerrigan's eyes turned on her familiar orange glow as she extended her right hand towards the vent and then pulled it aside. The vent, like if pulled by the force of gravity, ripped off the air duct by itself. Reamer was a bit dumbstruck with that. And impressed that still some architecture was dumb enough to allow air ducts to fit a human person, even in the 26th Century.

"Oh...", said Reamer. "That way."

_"Can anyone help me up?"_, asked Kerrigan. Raynor simply stood on his knees, like a stair for the princess about to enter an air duct. She climbs up Raynor's serving hands and shoulder, managing to reach the open air duct as the black knight in shining armor went on his feet and helped her go up and inside the duct. Surprisingly, the duct's size fits her.

"Too tight there, darling?", asked Raynor.

"So what else is new?", asked Kerrigan in return.

"Are you going to be fine?", Raynor asked.

"Just keep them distracted.", answered Kerrigan, starting to crawl her way until she couldn't be seen. Raynor simply looked at the open duct, a bit worried on the matter.

"Hey, brother, if we're doing it, we're doing it now!", shouted Reamer, getting Raynor's attention. Raynor loaded a clip and cocked the slide trigger on his C-14 as Reamer triggered his minigun.

"Okay, then, get ready people!", Raynor said. All of the other Marines loaded and cocked their C-14 rifles as well and stood on battle stance. Raynor stood close to the button panel on the right, that allowed to open the door.

"On my mark...", shouted Raynor, waiting a bit to ensure everyone is prepared, then he pressed it, readying his rifle to fire. **"COVER FIRE!"**

Raynor, Reamer and the renegade Marines stormed inside the security control room, starting to open fire on the balcony corridor. At least two Dominion Marines fell to the surprise attack before the remainder ducked for cover. The resisting Umojan Marines looked behind to see who were helping them until they saw Raynor and Reamer, walking across the catwalk trying to set on a better firing angle. The other Dominion Marines firing behind, obviously renegades, took their positions behind the empty workstations, joining the Umojans in their gun fighting.

On the balcony, surprise and desperation could be seen on the faces of those Marines who were left behind to guard the room, after a twenty-four Marine force secured the main security room. Questions came in booming along with the literal firestorm raining upwards towards them. Who were those people? Where the hell did they come from? And, if they were wearing Dominion color, _why they were firing at them_, instead of helping them clean those Umojan scumbags? Only one thing was certain. There was a black-colored Marine with them, with a skull decal on his helmet visor. They were warned as everyone else to be on lookout for this person. That was why one of them, Rell Drake, put up his hand on his helmet's intercom.

"Fleet Command, Gamma squad!", started Drake. "Raynor was sighted in the security room, repeat, Raynor in the security room! They want to take over!"

"Affirmative, Gamma, support is on route.", answered a female voice on his intercom. "Hold positions."

_'Perfect.'_, Drake thought, sitting down on the wall as he loaded and prepared his C-14 for another firing turn. He and his men had to pray they were still alive by the time cavalry arrived. Which would arrive after he made a miracle and killed all of them, he thought, just like in those goddamn movies...

* * *

It was a bit stressful, but beautiful, and much better than what looked before, according to security cameras.

Nova walked through the corridors of the _'Verhoeven'_ facility, almost being taken over by the Dominion she was working with. Everywhere she looked, she saw red-clad Marines, standing guard or walking across the wide corridors. Some were walking, as the area was virtually secure and under Dominion control, but some others seemed to be running to attend to other small fights, probably on other levels. She had been keeping the radio channels on ever since she arrived through that Drop Pod, keeping up to date regular updates. The latest report came in not a few minutes ago, concerning Dominion Marines firing on one another. One particular group caught her attention, she heard the Dominion Crown Prince was reported to be seen amongst the traitors. She heard on the reports those men were under his command, and she could guess it: The Prince have had enough with his father's rule. He was rebelling, and was willing to fight his father right there, despite all odds.

Some would call this valiant and brave. She called it stupid. What kind of a rebelling person fights the entire force of the Dominion military being deployed here with just a few men? Wouldn't it be wise to run away or even _surrender_ to his father, believing the Emperor would spare his son? After all, hell, Valerian Mengsk _was_ Arcturus Mengsk's legitimate son, both in claim and DNA! Why wouldn't his father _spare_ him?

Her thoughts were interrupted as her intercom voiced the Emperor's sound, calling for Nova.

"Agent Terra.", spoke Mengsk. "Report."

"No contact thus far, sir.", said Nova. "Heading now to handle the renegade Dominion Marines."

"Belay that action, Nova, you have bigger fish to fry.", spoke Mengsk. "It seems our former friends have made their first move. A transmission came in that Raynor is attacking the main security center we captured minutes ago."

"And Kerrigan?", asked Nova. "What of her?"

"There is no news of her sight, but I see there is no need to concern.", spoke Mengsk, with an evident tone of arrogance. "No doubt she will be close to her, as he'll want to be close to her as well. They won't want to separate so soon..."

"How can you be sure, Emperor?", asked Nova. This made Mengsk let out a small chuckle.

"Clearly, my dear, you should not underestimate this little concept called _'love'_. It's an emotional weakness, true, but it's also the most dangerous of things.", explained Mengsk. "He just spent four years trying to get her back and she won't want to get away from him, not after the horrors she's done and knowing she'll be hunted out there. Besides, they must love one another and thus will protect one another, as I said, and that makes it dangerous. And we'll turn it against them."

A smirk came up on Nova too, meaning Mengsk was right. Despite the fact they worked together and they would protect one another for fear of their lives, this mad romantic concept also made them easier to track. As he stated, where one would be, so would the other. And this was also their greatest weakness.

"Then, by all means, I'm to do something about it.", Nova assumed.

"No. I won't risk this as well.", denied Mengsk. "I want both alive so both can be terminated safely. I am not repeating the mistake of killing one and let the other live to have his revenge. Immobilize Kerrigan and do the same to Raynor. You don't need to bring in the rest alive. Just those two."

"Any chance for reinforcements?", asked Nova.

"As soon as you enter.", answered Mengsk. "And Nova... Maybe you'd like to risk yourself, but you're more useful to me as a Ghost than another martyr. Be careful there, and be careful _especially_ when facing Kerrigan."

"Don't worry, sir, it'll be strictly business.", answered Nova.

"It better be, Agent. I won't tolerate you waste time fighting her just because you're lacking a challenge.", answered Mengsk. "Now go. Mengsk out."

With this, the intercom ceased the transmissions and it returned to the radio channels. The update now was that a battle group lost contact shortly after engaging the traitor Dominion Marines. She'd have to concern later about them, though. She had orders to fulfill and a job is a job. She started concentrating so her device in the back would perform it's work.

Suddenly, a blue current started running through her body, in small hexagons, as Nova herself was mending into this energy, but then some parts of this current were disappearing into the air, leaving it nothing but a transparent shimmer. It continued so until the current ran it's course, and Nova disappeared from the human eye.

But Nova didn't disappear, as it'd mean her lack of presence. Instead she just vanished to the naked human eye. She had cloaked.

And this meant she'd start her job now...

* * *

It was cold. And tight. And she was sweating. Four years outside her standard line of work must have done wonders for Sarah Kerrigan, she thought. Wonders on her body. Maybe it gained weight, maybe not. Still, she fit the air duct, but she had trouble crawling forward too.

In her past, during the times of the Ghost Program under the leash of the Confederacy, Kerrigan entered more in air ducts than rats ever did. No one could blame her, it was part of the job of infiltrating key structures, either to steal vital information the Confederate military command could use, or to assassinate targets of interest. Sometimes, stealing valuable objects like thieves of times past, to be used as blackmail or bargaining chip on influent people, came along as a primary objective too. Life in a forces so special as the Program was not easy. Nothing in that life was easy. She could hear the gunfire on the left wall, that intensified shortly after she came in and started crawling. That must have only meant her loved one started the distraction, but it would not last long. She had to crawl faster.

"Just like the old days...", she mumbled to herself, annoyed, as she came to the end ahead that she hoped it would turn left. This would lead to the balcony corridor, where she could flank the shooting Dominion Marines and clear house to enter or breach the main security room. As she reached it, she was relieved to know there was a passage to the left, and spotted the grating separating the duct corridors from the outside.

As she approached the grating, she could see all those eight, red armored men on that corridor, five of them ducking to protect themselves from the real killing floor her boyfriend was making up. Three of those people were down on the floor with holes on their armors, meaning Raynor and his new Dominion friend had scored some opportunity kills. One of those sit people had his hand on the suit helmet, meaning he was no doubt calling for help. A help that she knew it'd come too late to save them. She wanted to have mercy on those people, but she couldn't. It were the rules of battle. To show a flicker of mercy to anyone loyal to Mengsk could cost the life of those on her side. Even and especially her loved one, whom she returned to after four years away. She wouldn't have any of that.

She simply looked on her rifle and removed the clip to check ammunition available. There were still some, perhaps enough for those troopers. She would have to look for ammunition soon. She would have spent much less if that armor on that freaking large trooper, that _'Marauder'_, as people called, wasn't bulletproof. Must have been a new alloy her former employer was applying. Good against bullets, but it wouldn't be much against a tank round, if she could use one. She put the clip back and slowly slid the loading clip, preparing the rifle while making the minimum of noise possible, to avoid denouncing her position. She would have to be fast the moment she pushed out that air duct grating. The moment those Marines noticed there was someone trying to flank them, they'd try to neutralize him or her as soon as possible. She pointed her left hand on the grating as the right was carrying her C-20A, her eyes glowing a fierce golden yellow yet again.

She made a silenced count of three and pushed her left hand. The grating ripped itself off violently and flew quickly across the balcony, getting the attention of the Marines in there.

"What the-", shouted one of them, before a bullet hit through his chest, making him scream in pain. The others picked their rifles to point at the source of the shot, an air duct that was closed moments ago, but now was open. Repeated muzzle fire proceeded, hitting the remaining four targets with an absurd accuracy.

It was no surprise for Kerrigan. She's been in situations like this. She did what was trained to do, what she was designed to do, what she was conditioned to do. Six shots, for one only hit a shoulder piece on one of the Marines, ended the matter of the main security room access balcony and it's occupying defenders.

Indeed, she was right. _It was just like the old days..._

* * *

Raynor and Reamer simply stood there, as the five remaining Dominion Marines fell harmlessly into the ground. A smirk came up on Raynor's face.

She did it.

"Stand down, people!", ordered Raynor, and all people lowered their weapons as the figure of Kerrigan climbed out the air duct. They simply walked towards the access door to the balcony corridor, that would lead to the insides of the most critical systems of the main security room, which lead inside. Raynor stepped forward to meet her as the automated door opened.

"Not bad, darlin'.", said Raynor.

"Just a bit _tight_, Jim.", said Kerrigan, smirking. "Just keep guard, be right back."

"You'll be fine, Sarah?", Raynor asked back.

"Hey, it's only one way in and one out.", commented Kerrigan, letting out a small chuckle. "I don't know what you're worrying about."

"Yes, ma'am. Noted.", Raynor said, letting out a chuckle too. "See you shortly."

With this said, Kerrigan turned around and started heading to the other, heavily armored access door on the other side. This door automatically opened as she approached, revealing the equipment to the most sensitive, important security management.

The room was somewhat squary and akin to a surveillance room from modern times. This could be seen in the terminal with multiple television screens, that no doubt showed the images the security cameras spread through out the installation transmitted in a live feed. On some walls, there could be seen some cabinet-sized computers, with lights flashing in and out every second and making beeping sound, doubtless put behind locked grating to avoid accidents or uninvited hands messing with the controls which obviously were vital. There were other cabinets, but those had drawers, meaning they contained either paper files or recorded surveillance footage in the form of either data disks, port access storage devices or old-fashioned video tapes. On the terminal, besides a standard keyboard, stood some button panels, with a small joystick that seemed to manually control the selected camera, as well as an office chair that seemed used by time and the apparent weight of the person working this room. Some paper sheets could be seen on the dark gray tiled floor, whose lines could only be seen thanks to the lightning provided by the yet weak single cylindric fluorescent lamp.

She went to the middle of the room, putting her C-20A aside, and put her right hand on the microscopic earpiece intercom she had in her right ear, that allowed her to communicate with the people she wanted to talk to. She synchronized her channel so that she could talk to Stratton, on the other side of the building, provided he was still alive, of course.

"Stratton, this is Kerrigan, I'm in the security station.", Kerrigan said. "Help me out with the controls."

"Very well, Kerrigan, I'm putting you in with Chief of Security Pyle.", spoke Stratton back. "He'll instruct you in powering the Tram."

"Listen carefully, miss Kerrigan, this is Pyle.", spoke a gruff, male voice that sounded like he was sixty-years old. "The boss here told me you have to power up the tram. Bitch of it is, it's complicated. One wrong move and you'll have to restart all over again. Understand?"

"I won't miss, Pyle. Not if I wanna live.", answered Kerrigan. "Fire away."

"Right to the terminal is a large cabinet-sized computer, that's the power control.", started Pyle. "You have to shut it down and restart it. Press the large yellow button, labeled _'Press to Close'_, wait thirty seconds, then press it again."

Kerrigan looked to the cabin and noticed it had a locker keeping the grating closed.

"It's locked.", said Kerrigan, looking around. "I can't find the key."

"They say you have those freaky powers, lady, why the hell you need a key for?", answered Pyle, ironically. Kerrigan then wondered if the pull she would perform would not move the cabinet out of place. She extended her right hand to the grating, her eye pupils glowing the golden yellow, and she then pulled it, miraculously forcing only the grating and not the whole cabinet forward, opening a path. _'Must be bolted to the wall...'_, she thought. Kerrigan walked to the computer cabinet, with those many lights and buttons, and she found a large circular yellow button, with the label 'Press to Close', and this she did.

The entire facility then went pitch black, meaning power ran out.

"What the!?", spoke a loud male voice outside the room, probably one of the Marines. "_Who turned off the lights?_"

Though she could not see it, Kerrigan made an effort to not laugh as she kept touching the surface of the yellow button, to not lose it. She counted thirty seconds in her mind and then pressed the button again. The lights returned, but in full force this time, meaning some power must have been freed after pressing the button. She put her right hand on the intercom again.

"There, power's back.", said Kerrigan to Pyle.

"Now, there is a panel with buttons and names to the bottom left.", Pyled said. "Only activate the five last buttons below."

Kerrigan then looked to the left in the cabinet, noticing a column of names detailing parts and systems of the facility. She crouched to find the final five buttons, that read, from above to down, _'Elevator System'_, _'Auxiliary Delivery Service'_, _'Transport Energy Circulation'_,_ 'Hangar Door Feed'_ and _'Auxiliary Assembly'_. She pressed those five, as small green lights came out to the right each time she pressed a button, meaning it was activated. She got on her feet as she heard a small humming from some engine waking up to life, then she put her right hand on her earpiece again.

"Done.", Kerrigan said.

"Head to the terminal.", said Pyle. "Access the console, type the following code: Execute, bar, G-T-F-O, dot, auto. That'll call in the Tram below."

She moved to the terminal, where a black screen monitor laid inside the panel and above the keyboard, with the DIR:\ command written in the left corner. She wrote as Pyle instructed her:

**DIR:\ execute\ **

As she pressed the 'Enter' key on the board, a message spurred out:

**Command Accepted.**

**Sublevel Emergency Evacuation System activated.**

Kerrigan put her right hand on her earpiece again.

"There, it's done, can I go now?", asked Kerrigan.

"No, not yet, you still need to unlock the special elevator.", spoke Pyle. "Now, type in: Execute, bar, G-L-H-F, dot, auto"

She then put her hands on the keyboard and readily started typing:

**DIR:\ execute\ **

As she pressed the 'Enter' key, a different message came in this time.

**Command Accepted.**

**Emergency elevator unlocked and open for service.**

"Done.", spoke Kerrigan, as the message appeared.

"That's it, Kerrigan, now get outta there!", said Pyle. "Elevator is on the end of the right corridor. Pyle out."

Before she could say anything, the radio channel went mute. He must've been in a hurry, where ever this Pyle was.

"You're welcome...", muttered Kerrigan as she turned around to pick her rifle and head to the elevator that opened and had a different design, looking like the maw of an automated monster, and that seemed like the rest of the walls of the corridor.

But then she saw a blue flashlight flaring at her. She stopped her movements as the blue current went up and then vanishing away, as a feminine form warped right before Kerrigan. As the current stopped, she saw a blond woman, utilizing somewhat the same suit as her, with the difference of being more armored and without any outlines that would define a swimsuit shape like she did, but it was entirely white, and with energy lines of her own, those being blue. The woman Kerrigan saw had also tactical eyeglasses that seemed attached to her left earpiece. She was also holding a rifle akin to that Kerrigan was using too. And she was aiming it at her. Kerrigan didn't know who this woman was, but she new what she was.

She was one like her. _A Ghost._ Kerrigan avoided making sudden movements as this one seemed ready to fire. She only stared at the newcomer, but the person seemed to be looking back. And smirking back.

"Well, well.", started the female Ghost, with a sneaky and satisfied tone. "Never thought I'd see this day. The legendary Sarah Kerrigan..."

Worse. She knew who Kerrigan was. But Kerrigan wasn't surprised. Her powers have built a reputation she didn't ask for, back in the old days of the Program. Either this or her time in the Zerg Swarm. One way or another, her name came to be very popular, although not in a positive way...

"Legendary?", asked Kerrigan, ironically. "As an instrument of killing for the Program, I suppose. And you are?"

"I'm Nova.", the Ghost introduced herself. "And I'm the girl who's bringing you in."

This didn't surprise Kerrigan either. Otherwise this girl, this 'Nova' as she names herself, would not be in her way of that of the raiders. Or she would have introduced herself earlier, if she was an ally.

"Unconscious, you mean, because I'm not laying down.", answered Kerrigan back. She then extended her right arm, motioning her hand as if she was asking Nova to come to her. "Your move."

Nova, instead, didn't move. She only slid the loading mechanism of her rifle in a sound Kerrigan was familiar with. She was simply going to fire.

But then, as in the old Roman saying, the die was cast. Kerrigan felt her battle reflexes, created and nurtured on so many years of practice and training in the service of the old Confederacy, started to rise inside her. A fever took control of her mind as all thoughts and emotions were put in a null state, also fabricated by her training, to not hesitate and act on the spot. She simply lounged at Nova and waved her left hand in an arc, forcing the Ghosts' rifle out of it's aim, as her right hand clenched into a fist and directed itself towards the blond girl's face. A loud shot was heard, with the bullet muzzle hitting somewhere else then both the combatants. A knee hit Nova's belly, disarming her, as the Ghost pushed her opponent back, now her own battle reflex waking up from the feral, but experienced assault.

It was the beginning of a fist brawl. Worse. It was a fist brawl between two woman, trained in the same military branch. A catfight.

Both figures lounged into one another, right hands clenched into fist and ready to strike. Kerrigan, however, was a bit faster, as she used her left hand to yet again block Nova's incoming assault and deliver her blow. However, she did not anticipate the blonde girl would use her left hand to strike at Kerrigan in one of her kidneys, making the half-Zerg pull back a bit. The Ghost tried a quick vicious assault, but Kerrigan blocked it in time by waving both arms upward down, then quickly pushing Nova to her left side and hitting her with a back kick, making the woman hit the computer cabinet. Kerrigan tried an assault by herself, but Nova blocked her assault, unleashed a left hook to Kerrigan's face and kicked her back, trying to advance. Both receded for a very short while and lounged at each other again.

As the two bodies came closer together, Kerrigan used her left elbow to deliver a strike to Nova's throat, but the blonde also delivered a knee strike, injuring Kerrigan. Nova spun her target, striking a body shot with her right fist on the girl's belly and then grabbed Kerrigan and lifted her upwards and struck her down the other way in a perfect 180 arc, having the half-Zerg, half-Terran down with her back on the ground. Nova then proceeded to pick Kerrigan up and get on her feet, but she was pushed back the moment Kerrigan advanced on her, making her hit the console terminal this time. Kerrigan saw her in a safe distance and without her rifle and tried to make a run at the door.

But then, she was hit by something big and heavy on her back that made her fall to the ground. Nova's eye pupils changed color into a flashy cyan-blue color as she clenched both her hands and motioned from the office chair to Kerrigan, making the chair fly harmlessly and hit the target, grimacing in pain. Then Nova grabbed her and threw her back to the center of the room. Kerrigan felt herself land close to the computer terminal.

"Where are you going?", taunted Nova. "I'm not finished yet!", she added as she then lounged in Kerrigan. The girl tried to react, but Nova unleashed her left hook on Kerrigan's face cheek, making her head spin to the left once more. Nova grabbed Kerrigan again and launched her towards a clear wall this time, the woman barely standing on her feet. Nova grabbed Kerrigan's neck and set her against the wall, locking her throat with her left arm and using the right hand to strike twice in her belly. Kerrigan could feel the blond girl's arm pressing against her throat, choking her as Nova used her right hand to press Kerrigan's forehead against the wall. Kerrigan could feel the effects of the choking as her teeth grinded and her eyes widened bloodshot, struggling to resist the choking before she passed out.

Suddenly, a loud sound was heard as the outside light bursted from one side of the room. The door opened as a black Marine stepped in. This made Nova divert her attention from Kerrigan to the Marine.

"Sarah, what's-", Raynor started talking, but stopped as he saw the other person choking her and recognized her blond hair. "**NOVA!**"

"_Raynor!_", Nova said, angry, but not before being hit by Kerrigan on her belly and being pushed back.

The distraction Raynor unexpectedly provoked was the opportunity Kerrigan needed to deliver a blow on her opponent, breaking her hold. Kerrigan then grabbed Nova on her shoulders and head butted her, forehead striking forehead violently, and then she pushed Nova against the wall she was previously held against, forcing her head into it. The impact hit Nova's head harder, causing her to fain unconscious, but falling against Kerrigan. With an angry face of disdain, she just let her fall to the ground.

Kerrigan simply looked at Raynor, with a tired, angry look, but Raynor knew she wasn't mad at him. He must've heard the rifle firing and naturally went to help her, only barred by the door in the balcony, which he must have had to force it open. That would've been the only explanation to why he took so long. She was tired and angry at the challenge the Ghost blond on the floor provided her. But most of all, she was relieved and the look on her face somehow told him she owed him for the help. She didn't need to thank him. She simply owed him this.

"Let's go.", said Kerrigan with a weak tone as she picked her rifle, which was exactly the way she left it, despite all the mess, and headed past the door and across the balcony corridor on the other side.

Raynor simply looked a bit at the surroundings, marveled at the mess two angry women could make, then he looked at the downed Nova. He could see her chest moving, although weakly, meaning she was still alive to a degree. He let out a sigh as he turned around and left the room. She didn't have to do this. But she chose so. Raynor was a hardcore believer of the human concept of _'Free Will'_, that all persons can choose their course.

Of course, they couldn't complain of the consequences later.

He catched up to Kerrigan in the outside of the balcony, the combined Umojan and renegade Dominion personnel ready to leave the room. Both persons said nothing as they exited the room. Along the way, Reamer tried to say something.

"The hell just happened?", Reamer asked.

"PMS.", Kerrigan answered.

Reamer asked nothing else after that. He didn't have to.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"Goddammit!", shouted Matt Horner after yet another almost suicidal run. In all those years of commanding the _Hyperion_ and seeing it and the people inside through some tight spots, this was the tightest spot of them all. One tight enough that even a human finger would need some effort in trying to get through.

Somehow, Horner felt himself back on Char. No, it's not like Char, as the Dominion ships there were friendly and were sharing as much of the pain caused by Zerg anti-air batteries as his ship was. No, Phaeton was different. It was the full might of the Dominion Armada and the only help he could get was from the renegade flagship _Bucephalus_. Valerian's flagship too had been suffering considerable damage on it's outer hull.

All the Tactical Response Fighter squadrons that have been scrambled faced literal swarming by Dominion fighters, not to mention the concentrated muzzle of the Dominion Battlecruisers' laser batteries and Drakken Cannons. He lost count of how many times the Defense Matrix shielding cover returned to be quickly wearied down again. All squadrons reported heavy damage and their missile and rocket ammunition ran low. And the ship itself reported damage on practically most of the spacecraft, although a lighter one. He wanted to try and persist, but it would be suicide. After all, for as the strongest the Defensive Matrix shielding was, it could not resist the full brunt of several 'Yamato' Energy Cannon blasts, the favorite 'special toy' of every Battlecruiser. Mengsk wasn't making it easy this time, and he was willing to go even harder.

"Damage report!", shouted Horner to the _Hyperion_'s navigator, an african-american person on his thirties wearing a blue officer suit named Marcus Cade.

"Hull damage to decks 16 to 34.", spoke Cade. "Hull integrity down, thirty-five percent. Engineering reports small fire occurrences bursting out."

_'That's not good.'_, thought Horner, knowing Engineering was the most soft part of the ship. It not only contained the power reactor, but also most of the engine drives that kept the Hyperion floating through out deep space. If something worse happened, either the ship would fall apart this time or the ship would simply stop moving, being nothing more than dead weight in the endless nightly vacuum.

"Horner!", boomed a gruff voice behind him.

Horner turned around to see an overweight person in an orange-clad monkey suit and a mechanical wrench where his left arm once was coming towards the first officer.

"Swann, what are you doing here, I thought you were-", Horner started, but then the old mechanic interrupted.

"Bad news, playboy.", spoke Swann. "The Defensive Matrix device on the fritz."

This news made Horner's eyes widen bloodshot. This was the last of bad news he wanted to hear.

"_What!?_", shouted Horner aghast.

"It's not dead still, but it's on the breaking point.", explained Swann. "I've forced it all I could. Anything else and then it becomes dead scrap."

Horner simply ran his right hands through his head, obviously nervous and needing a miracle. Not only for the fact this risked their shielding capability that allowed them to survive the Dominion aggression so far, but he knew the longer they took to reach the planet, the higher the odds Raynor and Kerrigan would be killed. Or worse, captured.

"Any options?", asked Horner.

"Apart from _'getting torn to pieces by the time the device burns out'_?", Swann asked ironically, but with a sad face. "Just one: Wait until it cools down."

"**Wait!?**", asked Horner, angry. "Jim and Kerrigan are practically alone down there, and you tell us to _wait_!?"

"What do you think I've been doing down in Engineering all this time? Practicing bowling!?", answered Swann back, insulted.

Horner did not answer, but instead let out a heavy sigh in frustration. He tried to calm himself down.

"How long?", asked Horner.

"One hour. Maybe more.", Swann answered. Horner stared back at him in return. "You weren't down there, boy, you didn't see how melting hot was that thing."

Horner simply leaned on the Star Map table, with his elbows touching the screen as Horner put his hands to cover his face, in an ultimate sign of total failure. Swann simply watched the scene with a sad expression.

"I'm sorry, playboy.", the Chief Engineer said. "I'm afraid the cowboy and her girlfriend are on their own for this one."

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And what did I tell you? I hope you enjoyed this particular chapter, especially the security room. I think that was both the highest, and a first on melee combat I've done, as well as a scene Blizzard SHOULD have added. This would make up some fans scream hard in excitement. Well, I surely would!

Now, a bit on next week's episode. Suffice to say this episode will be big. Really big. You just won't fathom how vastly, hugely, startling, mind bogglingly **BIG **it is and so on. Yeah, the reference was intentional. Sue me.

Also, on this chapter, some people can safely assume these scenes, like the air duct, combat and one-liners are just too cliché for this. Well, I say this is deliberate. I kind of wanted to make an homage to the 80's action movies, where action scenes _were_ action scenes, and not just any Michael Bay rip-off, like it is with most movies. Nothing against new action scenes, but I think it was in the old material where you could see the effort.

Also, next week we should get out of the facility and cover some genuine aerial combat. Avoiding spoilers, think Star Wars and Babylon 5 meets Battlefield 3. I promise, on my mother, that I'm actually **working **to make this as detailed and as good as possible. One scene, in particular, may be the reason why the chapter is big.

See you next week! Don't forget to comment and appraise!


	7. Chapter V - A Bad Battle Gone Messy

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER V - A BAD BATTLE GONE MESSY**

* * *

**UMOJAN RESEARCH FACILITY 'VERHOEVEN' - PHAETON**  
**NIGHT TIME.**

Compared to the last one he rode in, this other elevator, for Raynor, was a bit more spacious, with the right to additional lightning and even an air conditioning system. And not so much trouble getting in there compared to the previous one, as no battle groups were found. It seemed Kerrigan's trickery in the main security room had interrupted all elevator service with the exception of this one, obviously meant for evacuating the important types.

Funny that the important people weren't suits occupying VIP positions, but rather two of the most dangerous criminals in the sector accompanied by a Sergeant and a couple of Dominion Marines. The remainder, even the Umojans, could not fit into the elevator that didn't seem to stop and was riding downwards for an eternity. During the whole trip, neither Raynor nor Kerrigan talked about the little girl brawl that occurred not long ago in the same main security room she was working her magic, with the aid of Stratton and his chief of security Pyle through the intercom earpiece Kerrigan had put in her right ear. That was until Raynor broke the silence, trying to talk to her.

"Never thought I'd see a catfight... Especially with Mengsk's best assassin.", Raynor said.

"_Best assassin?_", Kerrigan asked, looking at him. "I didn't realize the standards dropped over the last years..."

"I doubt it, darlin'.", commented Raynor back. "Judging from what I saw when I entered..."

"Yup, four years out of service does wonders to your fighting skill.", Kerrigan said, ironically. "You should try it one of these days..."

Raynor only smirked at the joke. Then, the elevator doors opened, revealing the other side.

There was nothing new or revealing about this new room, but the singular open train car on the platform hanging above a thin rail, whose shape looked more like a single subway train wagon. Or a streetcar. One that carried four rocket engines on it's bottom, doubtless to make the wagon move. Still, it was pretty small compared to the elevator they recently rode into, but it must be the transport which would take Raynor and Kerrigan to the secret landing pad, where they could launch with relative safety and little to no air patrols the Dominion launched by the minute. The remainder of the platform was dark and empty, save for a few stacked crates in the left corner and to light posts, one of which seemed out of business.

"Last train out of Trouble Town, people!", Raynor said as the group walked towards the train. "All aboard!", he added as they approached.

"You move in, brother.", said Reamer. This made Raynor stop on his tracks. "I'm not done here yet."

Raynor turned around, surprised. He honestly thought he was going all the way, but it seemed someone had other plans. Someone like Valerian.

"I ain't leaving people behind, Reamer.", protested Raynor.

"You're this time, Raynor, I ain't no facing trouble with white blondie for fekkin' up!", Reamer declared. "Now hit the train, me and the brothers will stay here and do some damage."

Raynor looked in his eyes and seen there was no convincing the african-American the other way around.

"Good luck, then.", he finalized as he boarded the tram, with Kerrigan already in. She pressed the button on the console close to the door, closing it and firing up the engines. The single train wagon started to slowly move as the turbine fires reached their apex. Raynor and Kerrigan looked through the window as Reamer and the Marines were left behind, all looking at the departing tram as it walked along the thin rail.

"Damn shame.", Raynor said, sadly. "It's stupid to be leaving people behind to fight brawls we know it's we should be fighting."

"He's got better things to do than walking at our side, Jim.", answered Kerrigan. "We have to take care of ourselves."

Raynor said nothing, just looking at it and mentally preparing himself for the trials that would come next, the moment he would leave the tram and board the ship that would take him and Kerrigan back to the Hyperion and off that world, before Mengsk would squeeze it harder with his grip, hoping to crush them.

On the platform, having seen the tram leave, he touched the intercom, speaking to the men at his command in the floors above and beside him.

"Alright, men.", spoke Reamer. "The couple is away and secure. There's nothing more we can do here. Now let's get up and lend a hand to the Prince, he's needing it real hard and shit is thick and nasty!"

* * *

Pain. Agony. Hate.

And the cold temperature of the floor.

That's what Nova Terra felt when she woke up, in that same room where she fell. She was alive. That was a good sign, at least. The only good sign. Because she had failed her task. She failed and got handed by her target for free. She made the fatal mistake of underestimating her opponent in the very first round.

All she wanted was to introduce herself to Kerrigan, get to know the opponent that had the same Psi Index as her and let her target know who was it that captured her. A small formality, a modicum that at least was ought to be delivered between two enemies before a duel. But she didn't anticipate Kerrigan could so readily act. Nova should have foreseen it, after all, the former Queen of Blades was a Ghost, just like her. And then, her fighting movements... The way she fought sounded like she had her time instructing newcomers in the Program, when she actually didn't. After four years, it seemed Kerrigan's fighting and survival skills kicked in like it was yesterday. She fought like the oldest wolf in the pack, her assault being feral and fierce, yet experienced and calculated. The fact she didn't use any of her psionic powers didn't help either. She didn't need to, not when she was at such a close range.

Now Nova knew how much of a legend Kerrigan was. Not only she was the most powerful psychic known to Man, even more with what her transformation into the Swarm did to her. She was a warrior. A natural-born killer, bred for the craft of death, just like Nova. For the first time in her time serving the Ghost Program in the Dominion, she had something to fear. Not the Queen of Blades, in her full might and power and glory, but Sarah Kerrigan, the human Ghost who could fight her toe to toe.

Still, in that room, Kerrigan only got lucky. Were not for Raynor's_ timely_ intervention she could have disabled Kerrigan and then loaded another taser round, an electrical bullet that reminded the old Lockdown rounds of the past times, but meant for disabling organic personnel. The first was primed and ready to fire, as Emperor Mengsk ordered so, but the half-Zerg, half-human could reach the rifle before it was fired and drive it off it's target. Nova should not have got distracted by Raynor's showing up on the nick of time, but she did, and this cost her the advantage she had over her target.

_Curse Raynor._ Curse him again. As if it wasn't enough to let her down concerning her Spectre problem, now he helped Kerrigan by just showing up. She trusted Raynor would listen to reason and recognize that Gabriel Tosh and his group were dangerous and were intent on releasing bloodthirsty criminals from the New Folsom maximum security facility, but he preferred to listen to a criminal and unleash a psychopathic killing spree across the sector. All just to see her employer facing more trouble than he already had. But he would pay. In time, he would pay...

Then another thought came in booming in her head as she slowly got on her feet, noticing the room was more messed up with the previous catfight and empty. Arcturus Mengsk. He told her to not do what he strictly, but still Nova ignored him. Well, not entirely, after all, if she wanted a challenge, she would have dropped her rifle and get herself into a fighting stance. She only introduced herself to Kerrigan, but she knew somehow Arcturus would not interpret it well. He would think she looked for a fight when she could have shot her while cloaked.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the access door of the main security room opened and two red-clad Marines stormed in, guns aiming forward. One of them saw Nova and almost pulled the trigger, but calmed down when he saw she was a friendly. Nova herself reacted a bit, raising her hands in the air when she saw the pipe-sized barrel of the C-14 pointed towards her.

"_Whoa!_", shouted the Marine, the moment he saw her. "Ma'am, we- No one told us you were in this room!", he tried to explain, a bit nervous at the foul-up of shooting he almost did. Nova lowered her hands, looking angry at the situation. "Are you okay?"

"I got a shot at Kerrigan and she just slipped, trooper, how the hell do you think I'm feeling!?", answered Nova, with a furious tone. "Report!"

"_Verhoeven_ is nearly secure, but Fleet control has picked a tram heading East.", explained the Marine "It didn't show on our scanners early. They're sending a team to the other side of the tram line now."

"Get me a transport!", ordered Nova, picking her rifle and walking off to the balcony, towards outside. "One way or another, _she's mine!_"

Nova simply didn't look behind as she hastened her pace to the nearest elevator. She loaded another taser round and slid the loading mechanism of her C-20A. Perhaps there was still enough time to make amends to this mess, maybe not. But if she did catch up to them, she would not slip up this time. Her mind was clear and her anger set her straight. The first moment she got a clear aim, she would pull the trigger.

No more screw-ups, be those accidental or intentional ones.

* * *

The muzzle fire had ceased, being replaced by smoke and fire of the once existing weapon batteries in the _Verhoeven_ facility. It was a good news, as they could now focus more on any escaping transports. The facility was now disarmed of it's defenses, leaving only the problem of the fighting people inside to handle the problem.

He could feel it. It was coming closer. His victory was at his grasp, but not yet. He wouldn't grasp it until he saw Kerrigan and Raynor lying before him, both down and dead. But, yes, it was too close now to fail. At least that was the opinion of Arcturus Mengsk.

Watching the scene from the viewing window of his bridge, all he could now do was wait, and that was the most difficult task, even though he demanded updates from all ground groups by the minute and he sent his best agent to handle the situation. He looked over his pocket watch for the current nightly hour. Over half-hour had passed and no contact from her. Maybe she was dead. No, it couldn't be. It would not be, Nova Terra was simply too good for this, she was the best in her line of work. She wouldn't be caught unless she wanted so or either Kerrigan or Raynor somehow outsmarted her.

But if either outsmarted Nova, it'd only be this time: The power and thermal sensor systems had picked up new signatures coming miles below the facility in a curved line heading east of the facility, down the hill. Some sort of transportation system that did not appear before. Perhaps it was shut down, but it did not matter. He sent strike groups in Dropships to secure the area. Hopefully, they would secure the area even before Raynor and Kerrigan arrived.

If he was even luckier, they would never even escape the hangar.

Yes, now he was coming close.

* * *

**IN HIGH ORBIT...**

Like almost every Battlecruiser in the Koprulu sector, the Dominion warship _Churchill_ bore the trademark Hammerhead shape that became famous during the Guild Wars, the infamous interstellar war between the Confederacy and the Kel-Morian Combine, years before Zerg and Protoss arrived to the sector and when men thought they were ultimately alone in the universe.

By then, Terrans thought that the universe was actually their infinite playground, where almost everything, if not it all, was free for the taking, only having to race with other humans to get it first. Science-fiction books described that Man, when he reached the stars, could enter a new era of peace and advancement. Pure mistake. Men did advance, but blood is and was still to be shed across the stars. A few factors described the motivation of humans to continue warfare: Ignorance, Fear and Lust.

_Ignorance_, as a very old writing used to tell, _is strength._ It gives one focus to keep on fighting, because he does not know other reason than that he's told to. But ignorance is also blinding. It stops people from seeing beyond the presence of the battle, and thus understanding, which would be the first step to playing a more intelligent move. But understanding is dangerous, because it leaves people immune to manipulation from those who use ignorance to seek their private wet-dream goals. Also, ignorance walks alongside manipulation, not only because of lies and half-truths of said 'smarter' men, but also because the masses don't care to seek the truth. They're only concerned of the heat of the moment and when an immediate solution is applied.

_Fear._ The driving factor that leads to either immediate action or gradual inaction. Fear drove the wheels of smaller men, fueled the cogs of some societies and was the tool of governments for management. Fear of death. Fear of failure. But, above all, the fear of being weak. Weakness is the greatest sin one is to commit in a war, and the appearance of being weak when one is strong a greater sin. For a stronger power, looking weak makes look like mortal, or 'human', in some terms, opening way for lesser forces to take advantage and superior forces to mock one's sovereignty. Thus, Fear walks with ignorance, to not allow one to become weak or look like weaker. But it was also an useful artifice, for little does small men know of the matters outside, and thus, this 'unknowledge' becomes doubt and fear, and fear turns into hate and respite. For where Ignorance is Strength, Fear is Utility.

Finally, there was _Lust._ Not refined, sexual or emotional lust for one, be it male or female, because of emotional ties, or social status, or physical build or wealth possession. This was only the basic, primal lust of men. There were other types of lusts. Lust for power, power over people, subjects to be used like dolls with no strings, or even outside powers, like psionic ability or magics of old, the ability to summon storms or literally rip the ground open apart, that would make men look close to godlike, if not so. Lust for wealth, in riches or precious minerals valued by kings and emperors of old, where the shining values increases the ability to own more material power, be it in lands, equipment or even people, who sell services for wealth, from mercenaries bearing weapons to employees merely seeking a decent living. Lust for more and more, for, in a chaotic social pyramid like that of men, '_he who has more dictates more_'.

These were the driving factors of men to walk into the unending path of war. This was what made men kill more and more, developing new, creative ways of killing, from martial techniques where one can end a fellow man's life with his bare hands, to the feared weapons of mass destruction that could cover states, countries, entire continents. _Even entire planets_. But not only brute force was the creative way. There were other, cunning, cruel ways of killing. Lethal injections, chemical warfare, torture... Those meant to deliver a slower, painful death. For a quick end has a brief pain, and little satisfaction for some people who'd desire the maximum of suffering for their enemies.

This was what Captain Stolypin Sergeievich Etropov rationalized. At least, when his biological system was not compromised with the infamous beverage associated with Russians. Vodka.

Like most officers, he weared a black naval uniform that distinguished him from the remainder, full of golden yellow garments and with a medal or two on his chest, for acts of valor or bravery in the line of duty. His face had been withered by the passing of time, even though he was only thirty-five years old, with his mustache and beard starting to grow and form. His medium-sized hair was grizzled and made a mess not usually fitting to a military officer. His left eye bore a yellow-colored opticon device, a cybernetic eye built to replace his lost left eye, lost in situations unknown. He'd been smoking a black wooden tailpipe that allowed him to travel deep in his mind and rationalize while not in a combat situation.

One he'd just enter.

A loud klaxon came out across the bridge of his vessel, designed like that of other Battlecruisers, as red lights started flashing through the room as well. The noise was enough to disrupt his thinking as the lights were enough to call his attention.

"Captain, incoming outside signals!", shouted one of the ships officers, operating the sensor and radar screen computer terminal.

"Is it those idiot pirates again?", asked Etropov, with his heavy Siberian accent and sounding a bit calm. It was going to happen again, he thought, as the renegade cruisers tried to breach different areas of the blockade surrounding this desert planet called Phaeton. They already passed through the area his ship was stationed in twice.

"Negative, sir, it's something larger.", answered the officer.

"Larger?", asked Etropov, now being caught curious, diverting the look from the window to his officer. "A small fleet, perhaps? Umojan?"

"I don't know, Captain, but I'm working on it.", answered the officer, starting to work on his computer, as Etropov returning gazing the view of the space outside. But he didn't have to work for long.

A massive shadow enveloped the _Churchill_'s bridge, as well as any sense of lightning outside, engulfing even the ships outside, through the Bridge's viewing window.

"What in the-", started Etropov, before he saw a huge alien tentacle strike and impale directly a Battlecruiser in front of him. This tentacle seemed the largest ever seen by human eyes, with the thick size of a skyscraper, the look of a crimson red and it's tip even larger, with a spike shaped as a human rocket and as thick as cargo frigate. This tentacle had hit the left side of the Battlecruiser, drilling through the armor and sparking explosions as plating chunks were released and flew towards the stars or down the planet. Etropov's eyes widened at the scene, but the tentacle was not finished with it's target. It started to push the Battlecruiser forward, towards the other ship. It impacted with a violence unlike any he would see, not even if he hit this cruiser with his own at maximum speed. But then, other tentacles, the same size of the first, appeared and impaled other Battlecruisers, and then began to throw them towards other ships so they'd hit each other.

He knew what this meant. He knew what fighting tentacles, or acid or bile meant. The Zerg had entered the battle.

"**SOUND THE RED ALERT! HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS, EVASIVE-**", roared Etropov, turning around and displaying a face of fury and fear as a loud klaxon started booming on the bridge. However, he was interrupted when a huge tremor and pull have caught the ship, making Etropov and most crew members fly, as the ship was being moved abnormally like a doll when played by a child. The people inside flew and violently hit the walls, roof or floor, depending on how it was being moved, causing all sorts of blunt force trauma and even causing brain damage, immediately killing personnel. Then, another huge tremor followed, with explosion sounds and then an ultimate fire engulfing the bridge in flames.

The _Churchill_ was deployed two years prior to the beginning of the Second Great War. It contained five thousand and four hundred men and women serving in most areas. It fell as the fifth Battlecruiser in Phaeton's orbit by the tentacles of an approaching beast.

The tentacles of a Zerg Leviathan.

* * *

"Emperor Mengsk, Captain Hardscape, we have a problem!", shouted one of the radar officers aboard the White Star.

The '_problem_' word was enough to have Mengsk and Hardscape walk towards the computer terminal where the responsible for this particular line worked.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?", asked Mengsk, suspiciously. "_Because it's not even funny._"

"I wished it was, sir.", answered the operator. "We have a breach on the orbital blockade, by the eastern part of the planet. Ten to twelve ships lost."

"TEN TO TWELVE!?", shouted Hardscape, furious at the numbers. "That HAS to be a joke, not even the _Hyperion_ and the _Bucephalus_ combined have this sort of firepower."

"But it is on the radar, sir, as it is the massive signal ahead!", answered the radar operator.

"What massive signal, exactly?", asked Mengsk, suspiciously.

"We don't know yet, Emperor." answered the operator. "There are zero reads on radar and electronics scan, but thermal reading is on the highest scale ever."

"Thermal reading!?", asked Mengsk back, starting to get nervous.

"The sensors are registering a massive heat surge that came across the blockade, right where our ships were.", explained the operator. "Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to take out the _Majestic_, _Burton_, _Patton_, _Churchill_, _Blood Raven_ and others. Also, sir... the surge is... _moving._"

Somehow, out of nowhere, Mengsk's face started losing both anger and confidence.

"Are you certain it's moving?", Mengsk asked.

"Yes, sir.", answered the operator.

Thoughts started brewing on the Emperor's head, as a puzzle like rationalization of what was going on was forming. And what was going to happen. Ten to twelve-heavily armed Battlecruisers destroyed. No signs of electronic systems vital to operate a space ship, nor radar signature let-outs that could be read, and yet a massive heat surge that could move at it's leisure, with the strength of a supernova or... a capital ship's rocket engine.

"Where is it going?", asked Hardscape.

"Given it's current course, it's headed towards the _Verhoeven_ research facility.", answered the radar officer. "And given the current speed, it'll take less than five minutes for it to arrive."

Hardscape looked at Mengsk, who now had a facial expression of obvious desperation. Hardscape understood. The fact this heat surge was headed right to Mengsk's desired target was now too much of a coincidence. Especially now that he was too close to this victory.

"Recall the fleet!", ordered Mengsk, with a nervous tone. "Recall all ships, recall all fighter squadrons and direct everyone to Verhoeven now!"

"I must protest, sir.", said Hardscape in return. "If we break the blockade, we will risk the _Hyperion_ or the _Bucephalus-_"

"Just do it, damn you!", answered Mengsk, angry. "If it is what I think it is, it will be able to rescue Kerrigan and Raynor in time, and even _laugh_ in our faces as it does it! I'm not losing this day, Hardscape, not when I'm this close, do you understand me!? Now order the damn fleet to regroup and issue an alert! We have an incoming hostile headed to the target, new orders are to intercept and bring it down by any means!"

"Doing so, now, sir.", answered the operator. "But sir, you must consider Captain Hardscape's point. The _Hyperion_ or the _Bucephalus_ may take advantage of the chaos-"

"If they do it, it's better!", shouted Mengsk. "I can deal with two rebel ships, but not this. This is the LAST thing I'll ever allow now, now that we've come this far! HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS NOW!"

Mengsk left in utter fury, leaving Hardscape, whom let out a brief sigh, and the radar operator, who now was watching the radar screen and this heat surge, now shaped like a water drop, continue it's course.

But then, something else happened on the radar screen, as small, but visible lines started sprouting out of the heat mass, extending and then curving forward, like if those lines were alive on their own.

Alive like the Zerg were.

* * *

_On the other side..._

"...HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS NOW!", screamed the voice that echoed through out the dark chamber, with filtering that obviously was a radio channel. The black eye whom had been observing the planet for days and witnessed the Dominion's arrival had now decided to enter the game. And, judging by the way the person screamed, in fury and despair, it seemed the plan worked.

"So, Mengsk, you fell for it... I'd have listened to your Captain, but I can't blame you either... We Zerg just... _can't fit into the best laid plans..._", the frightening sweet feminine voice said, as it let out another small chuckle.

The eye then shifted attention to something an Overlord nearby was sensing. Electric vibrations, coming from the ground. A humming sound was heard as small bits of metal clunked on one another and wheels spinned. All coming from a sand dune mound below. But it also felt something. The thoughts of a woman, with a man besides her. A woman whom had thick tendrils for a hair.

"Interesting... The Umojans built up a reserve escape route and now dear Sarah is riding along it.", the voice said. "Don't worry, little girl, we'll meet one another shortly. I'll just keep our common interest distracted while you run off. I'd only enjoy the final moments with your boyfriend if I were you, because... *sigh* Well, I don't know what to do with him, but it's certain you won't like it. _Not one bit._"

Suddenly, another voice erupted through the dark chamber.

"We are approaching the Umojan science facility.", spoke a voice, clearly male, deep and seemingly lacking emotion. "The entire Dominion fleet is gathering to it's defense."

The dark eye only looked above, like if it was annoyed.

"*sigh* I know it is, _I planned it!_", answered the female voice, annoyed. "How many times do I have to get it through your thick carapace? I _want_ the Emperor to be distracted to what he thinks it's an actual threat! I _want_ them to rally in despair and come to me! I _want_ them to fight me! _Me_, the bulletproof vest to Kerrigan's body. Let them think they are avoiding a greater problem. They just don't know what their committing will cost them."

"What about our Queen, if she is whom you state it is?", asked the male voice. "How can we retrieve her if the Terran Raynor has her in his safety? How can we recover her if the Terran renegade cruisers can now enter the planet and evacuate them?"

"That is why I sent that small pack out early, close by the moon. And that's why I want you to reserve a few more Mutalisks and Corruptors.", answered the female voice. "These stay while I unleash the rest. Are the bile spitters and Scourges prepared?"

"As you commanded.", the male voice answered.

"Good.", replied the female voice. "Now, get prepared. We are approaching the Umojan science facility, as you so gleefully said."

* * *

Metal clunking. Boots running. A loud klaxon sound. The sound that defines a preparation for combat.

That was practically the situation on most of the Battlecruiser _Wrath_. Voices were coming out loud as the communications officers were voicing new order sets to fighter squadrons outside. Captain Lilith herself stood with her aide Feud Thorne on the Star Map, monitoring fleet movement and standing by for the arrival of new contact. A new contact that forced Emperor Mengsk to recall the entire Dominion fleet and have them break the blockade surrounding the planet. Ships were arriving within the hour, all in position and all above the same research facility they were attacking not minutes ago. To protect it.

But not protecting it to protect someone important. It was to prevent someone from being caught by it. Because, judging by the repetition of orders to be fully armed and prepared, it meant that, whatever it was coming, it wasn't friendly, and it definitely wasn't few or small.

"Weapons report.", demanded Lilith.

"All batteries fully charged and primed.", answered a nearby officer with an Asian origin appearance. "Drakken auxiliary cannons almost prepared, missile pods loaded and ready to fire. Defensive Matrix charge at ninety-seven percent. Yamato charge initiating now. Estimated time for firing capability, seven minutes and counting."

"Thank you, mister Kau.", answered Lilith. "Fighter squadrons?"

"Wings Gold, Red and Blue returning to refuel and rearm.", answered a nearby female voice. "Purple and Green report already joined other fighter squadrons with the fleet and standing by."

"Good.", replied Lilith. "Helmsman, get us in position with the fleet, ask Fleet Command for navigational beacon."

"Yes, ma'am. Setting vector waypoints now.", answered a white-skinned man, on his mid twenties, operating the navigation computer.

With this set, Lilith only proceeded to the viewing window of the bridge, going to watch the clear night sky outside as the persons around her ran, walked and worked their duties in preparation for the upcoming conflict. Thorne followed and joined her.

"Captain, pardon me when I say this, but the Emperor has lost his mind.", Thorne protested. "With the blockade broken, the renegades can now rescue Kerrigan and Raynor if they so like it!"

"I don't like this strategy either.", answered Lilith. "But, for the Emperor to have called everyone here, this new contact just can't be good."

"Wouldn't it be wise to first get the targets, THEN focus on the threat it's coming, whatever it is?", asked Thorne. Lilith didn't like the question.

"Dammit, Feud, this isn't about orders or not!", exclaimed Lilith, angry. "What if that thing is Zerg? What if it came to rescue Kerrigan? Have you thought of that? And even if we can't get them, what do you prefer? For both to be among pirates or _leading the Swarm!?_"

Feud didn't say anything else after that. Lilith was right. The former Queen of Blades, for her past life, was able of controlling the entirety of the Zerg Swarm. If she returned to command the Zerg, especially now that the Dominion had her surrounded, as well as Raynor, she could make the Raider's rebellion against the Dominion a personal matter. Worse yet, with the proximity between the former Queen and the terrorist, the rebellion would reach an entirely different level: One where they could fight the Dominion toe-to-toe, thanks to the numbers the Zerg can provide, along with the expertise the Raiders have acquired in performing raids against the Dominion. These factors could make both enemies the most dangerous force in the galaxy since the dark days of the Brood War, when both Zerg and the United Earth Directorate fleets clashed in planet-scaled battles that mirrored the prophesized Armageddon.

In one corner of Lilith's mind, she knew it would not be possible. The Raiders had been garnering a reputation amongst the masses of the border worlds for helping them escape the horrors those monsters would bring. Families torn apart, loved ones infested or worse, entire worlds overrun... The fact the Raiders could join the Swarm with the common goal of tearing the Dominion down would _vaporize_ this reputation. Because, when the Dominion was no better than the former Confederacy for using the Zerg to achieve their goals, as that broadcast months ago stated, the Raiders were far worse: _They'd be aiding the same monsters that killed billions, human and alien alike, out of their own volition._

Yet, in another corner, it could be said it was too tempting... And the Raiders would be desperate for such a said '_boon_' to occur. They had not been on a decent shape for the last two years, with supplies running low, having lost most of their men and equipment in battles and the seeds of doubt and regret being sewn amongst Jim Raynor's very close people. Plus, with the fact the Emperor had utilized the most dangerous weapon known by mankind against him and his group, life amongst a renegade group, especially one with a vain promise of a better future, was not promising at all.

This most dangerous weapon was not a nuclear missile nor a simple gun, but the media. There was nothing more condemning then the opinion of the masses directed against you, that can make all those millions who don't understand the perils they face hate or love one. For the natural death of one could be surpassed, but for his legacy and remembrance of his deeds to be forever defamed until the end of eternity could not. Especially in a society like humanity, where victors write history and define their enemies, either in the way they truly were or in the way those victors would want people to see them.

"Confirming contact approach.", spoke one of the operators behind the couple. "Estimated time for contact, three minutes and counting."

Lilith did nothing but let out a small sigh. No matter how well prepared the player was, the beginning of the messy game called war was not beautiful, not comforting.

* * *

"_Wrath_ AirCom, this is Red Zero-Six, finishing patrol on waypoint _Beta_ three, bearing course 4-1-2, angels 4, zero radar or thermal contact encountered. Request new order set when objective complete, over.", spoke the fighter pilot Ebert Henderson, watching the nightly sky through the 'night mode' visor of his pilot helmet and holding the gear of his ever trusted A-2 Viking Armored Mechanical Hybrid as it steered left, with the company of his trusted fighters to his side, codenamed Zero-Three and Zero-Eight. The shift was somewhat closer to an end, maybe this time Air Command would order him to rest and refuel his plane home. Still, no ammunition was spent yet and there was still some fuel gallons to make perhaps another patrol turn or two before it'd be as dry as martini.

The Viking's appearance, on the air, looked like an arcade video-game fighter, perhaps due to it's appearance, that nearly defied the ruling of aerodynamics, or perhaps because of the excessively large twin Lanzer torpedo pods on it's side, that shadowed the seemingly tiny wings on it's sides. Still, for a fighter of such a disproportional appearance, it was a nasty business, maybe not as fast as the sleek A-17 Wraith space superiority fighter, but it was still able to pull it's weight on the terms of maneuverability. It still was able of putting up a decent fight, not only for it's torpedoes, but for the auxiliary 25mm attack cannon installed below it's frontal nose, that still fit even when it transformed. After all, Lanzer torpedoes were limited even for a sparse ammunition cache the Viking had, and thus other alternatives for air-to-air combat were religion for the Dominion Air Force, which, in the actual days of space traveling, was nothing but a sub-unit of the Dominion Armada.

Even so, the Viking would not bear the 'Armored Mechanical Hybrid' name if it did not harbor it's secret and most dangerous ability: The ability to unfold it's lower legs and the twin autocannon arms, installed in the plane's belly, and thus change from a combat air fighter to an armored field assault mechanoid, that could unleash it's sparse autocannon ammunition on the masses of either Terran, Zerg, or Protoss armies stubborn or stupid enough to enter it's path. While it's missile payload from the fighter mode could not be unleashed on the ground, it was actually not needed at the moment, as the pilot could transform back into the air, thanks to it's powered VTOL (Vertical Take-Off and Landing) rocket engines, that unleashed a small turbine blast powerful enough to make the mech '_jump_', thus enabling it to transform into the feared heavy air fighter and begin striding into the skies.

However, despite the Viking's greatest skill for versatility, it was also the greatest weakness for it's pilots. Few are those whom are capable of mastering both assault and fighter modes and the transformations they pass through, for many can't survive their first battle trial, remaining in the condition of '_cherries_', a term named by the veterans and command officers for those who were still to carry out the first transformation. Those who pass, however, become the most skilled pilots across the Koprulu Sector, some so deadly that these few elite have their names known by both friendlies and enemies.

"Red Zero-Six, AirCom, stand by for new order set, report fuel status, over.", spoke a gruff male voice through the radio.

"AirCom, Red Zero-Six, fuel reserve at sixty-five percent, zero ammunition spent, all foxes accounted for.", answered Henderson.

"Ten-four, Red Zero-Six, trigger weapons free and bear course 1-0-1.", replied the AirCom voice. "Regroup with fleet and stand in battle readiness. Fleet Command reports contact bearing eight-zero-five, negative for electronics, positive for thermal. Possible Zerg contact, seventy-three percent estimate. Confirm order receive, over."

"AirCom, Red Zero-Six, confirmed, confirmed.", answered Henderson, pulling the gear left, having the Viking spin a bit to the left and start turning in that direction as well. "Heading 1-0-1, angels 3, triggering weapons unlock. Red Zero-Three, Red Zero-Eight, head on my bearing, guns free, repeat, guns free. Confirm, over."

"Red Zero-Six, Red Zero-Three, confirm course 1-0-1, angels four, guns free, bird holding your starboard, over.", spoke a male voice.

"Red Zero-Six, Red Zero-Eight, proceeding to course, now, holding your port, weapons primed, rooted, toothed, ready for shooting, over.", answered a female voice.

"Red Zero-Six to wingmen, confirmed.", answered Henderson.

Then, out of nowhere, a beeping sound started echoing through the tight pilot cockpit, a reminder of the old airplane cockpits in the 21st century, as Henderson started reading the video screen to the right, pressing one of the many buttons in the panel below. The right screen shifted images, as it changed to a circular radar screen with three small dots on the bottom of the circle while a single white dot appeared on the top side.

"Red Zero-Six to wingmen, live eye, live eye, singular contact closing fast upfront.", said Henderson. "Negative for IFF, negative for electronics, positive for thermals. Stand by, possible Zerg bandit incoming."

It didn't take long, however, before some green blasts, like acid spewing, starting flying upfront and racing in hopes of meeting their intended targets. One of those green blasts nearly hit one of the Vikings, namely the one to the left side of Henderson's plane.

"Son of a bitch, nearly got me! Break and attack, break and attack!", spoke Zero-Eight. With this, her fighter broke the formation and headed down to the far left.

"Acknowledged.", spoke Henderson. "_Wrath_ AirCom, Red Zero-Six, confirming hostile aggression, confirming Zerg bandit in air sector. Breaking and engaging target, over."

"Red Zero-Six, this is AirCom, confirm number estimates, over.", spoke AirCom.

"AirCom, number estimates unknown.", spoke Henderson. "Confirmed one thermal reading thus far."

Suddenly, an image came flying through Henderson by his left side as well. This image could barely be seen, but it's initial form suggested a flying scorpion tail with two bat-like wings. It was practically impossible to confirm it, given how fast the target strafed, but Henderson was trained for this for the majority of his training.

"AirCom, Red Zero-Six, confirming Zerg bandits in area, identifying multiples. Identify Mutalisk strain, confirm, over.", Henderson said, steering his Viking to the right and performing a full spin.

"Red Zero-Six, Red Zero-Three, confirming additional bandit entries, plus three.", spoke the gruff male pilot. "Identifying multiple Mutalisks, over."

"Red Zero-Eight, proceeding to intercept bandits in heading 2-3-6.", spoke Red Zero-Eight.

During his maneuvers, two shadowy figures appeared as Henderson performed his maneuvers. They closed on him with an absurd speed as one of them opened fire and directly hit the Viking in the upper side.

"Red Zero-Six, direct hit!", spoke Henderson, as he pressed a button in the panel and then steered the Viking to the right and upwards. "Switching to thermal view, engaging!"

"Red Zero-Three, bandits on my six, attempting to clear out! Performing evasive!", spoke Red Zero-Three, nervous.

"Red Zero-Eight, bandits locked!", spoke Zero-Eight. "Firing, firing Foxes!"

Henderson managed to pick up one of the Mutalisks on his helmet's visor. Thanks to the modern day's technology, he could trigger a lock on the Zerg beast.

"Red Zero-Six, target lock on bandit.", spoke Henderson, pressing the top button on the handle. "Fox two sent!"

A clunking metal sound and a rocket engine starting were heard as a white smoke trail departed and headed to the Mutalisk, that started to strafe down and to the right. The sent torpedo, however, managed to catch up to it's target and unleashed a fiery explosion, catching the beast in a ball of fire as a flaming husk starting to lounge down to the ground, miles below.

"Red Zero-Six, confirmed hit, bandit down.", Henderson said. "Good kill, good kill."

"Red Zero-Three, bandit down here too.", spoke Zero-Three. "Proceeding to intercept nearest."

"Zero-Eight, one bandit down, locking on sec-", started Zero-Eight when she interrupted out of nowhere. "Shit, it's bled it's speed! It's on my back! Performing evasives!"

"Bled speed!?", asked Zero-Three. "That's impossible, Zerg ain't that much smart!"

"Zero-Eight, bandit still on my six, can't shake it!", Zero-Eight shouted, alarmed. "Requesting aid, repeat, requesting aid, performing evasive. Spinning full three-sixty! Ineffective!"

Henderson, hearing the call for help of his second wingman, steered the handle towards Zero-Eight's position. He seen her fighter performing a spiral maneuver as a Mutalisk kept on firing it's green blast on the target, missing the Viking by a few miles. The beast did not spin, but beat it's wings in a furious manner as it maintained the hot dogfight. A second Mutalisk joined this first one, crossing it to the right and trying to flank Zero-Eight.

"Zero-Eight, this is Zero-Six, closing on you now, spotted second bandit.", spoke Henderson. "Moving to intercept."

"Zero-Eight, confirming second bandit, it's locking on me!", shouted Zero-Eight. "Hurry up, already!"

Henderson managed to get the Mutalisk approaching Zero-Eight on it's visor lock.

"Bandit locked!", he said, pressing the side button on the handle. "Firing twenty-five!"

A repeated firing noise was heard as the muzzle light from Henderson's machine gun cannon traveled forward, racing to eternity and trying to catch the absurdly fast Zerg beast. Henderson had to align the Viking behind the Mutalisk after missing a few shots, steering a bit to the left. As he fired again, some bullets have directly hit the Mutalisk, deflecting a bit of the bullets alongside the thick scaled carapace. One however, made the Mutalisk radically move as a reaction to the sudden pain. The bullet must have hit the Mutalisk and wounded it inside. Henderson, however, kept on firing, as the monster was still flying. Some sequential shots missed the Mutalisk, but the others successfully hit it, forcing the Mutalisk to fly down, as the wings did not flew anymore. The beast had fallen.

"Bandit down, good kill!", shouted Henderson, proceeding to intercept the second Mutalisk. It's blurry thermal image was included, like the rest, in the visor's target lock. "Bandit locked. Fox two sent!"

The white smoke trail started pursuing it's target, forcing Zero-Eight, whom was close, to maneuver down and to the left to avoid the blast radius. The Mutalisk only attempted to pursue it's target before the torpedo hit it.

"Target hit, good kill, good kill!", shouted Henderson.

"I copy. Much appreciated, Zero-Six.", answered Zero-Eight.

"Zero-Three, what's your status?", asked Henderson.

"Zero-Six, Zero-Eight, confirming two bandits down.", answered Zero-Three. "Negative on thermal. Any on yours?"

"Zero-Six, Negative thermal on mine.", Henderson said. "Zero-Eight?"

"Zero-Eight, negative for further thermal.", answered the female pilot. "Think that's the last of them?"

"There's never last with Zerg, Zero-Eight.", replied Henderson. "_Wrath_ AirCom, this is Red Zero-Six, confirmed and destroyed multiple contacts. Count five to six, Mutalisk strain. Zero thermal read on all three Reds. Presume air sector is clear. Resuming heading back to Fleet, over."

"Affirmative, Red Zero-Six, spreading news to FleetCom now.", answered AirCom. "Resume objective, refuel and rearm, that's only the first round. Report additional encounters. Out."

"Copy, AirCom, Red Zero-Six out.", answered Henderson. "Alright people, realign formation. AirCom thinks Round 2 is about to kick in."

"There's always two to more rounds with Zerg, Zero-Six.", answered Zero-Three.

"Roger.", answered Henderson, as the Vikings returned into formation and proceeded back to the fleet.

* * *

_On the Wrath..._

"Captain, Red Squad Alpha sent a warning.", said the communications officer to Captain Lilith Daniels. "They confirm engaging multiple Zerg hostiles."

Lilith's head frowned. She wished to not hear this, but she did. The Zerg had indeed entered the game. She left the viewing window in the front of the bridge to meet the communications officer. She was clearly a caucasian female, with brown hair forming a ponytail and brown eyes as well. She wore a headphone that covered her ear, with a microphone attached to the left phone piece, as well as the same blue officer suit that most crew members on the bridge wore, with the slight difference that the neck folds bore the red symbol of the Dominion.

"Zerg hostiles?", asked Lilith. "How many?"

"Not so many, ma'am, so far it has been five to six Mutalisks.", answered the communications officer. "A small number, but it is confirmed the Zerg are in Phaeton. Fleet Command has been alerted."

"Casualties?", asked Thorne.

"None yet, sir.", answered the officer. "Red Alpha had finished patrol sweep and was returning to fleet. It seems they just stumbled by. They got lucky."

"_Lucky is never said when it's about Zerg, officer._ Sixth general navy rule.", declared Lilith. "What of the large mass incoming? Anything we can identify?"

"The only comparison we can identify so far is similar to a giant Zerg strain Raynor's Raiders engaged on Char's orbit, prior to the final battle.", answered the officer. "They codenamed it '_Leviathan_', and it's considered the largest Zerg aerial strain on record. The presence of tentacles similar to the recordings from the Battlecruiser _Valentine_, which was on this same battle, seems to further support the theory."

"Transmit the recording and comparisons to _White Star._", ordered Lilith. "Weapons report!"

"Yamato still charging, ma'am, forty-percent loaded, firing estimated time, five minutes.", answered Xing Kau, the weapons assessment officer aboard the Wrath. "Other than this, all other weapons and countermeasures operational and primed."

"Estimated time for arrival?", asked Thorne.

"One minute and thirty seconds.", answered the comms officer.

"Disregard! Disregard!", shouted one other male officer nearby. "Contact closing in and closing fast, coming south, south-east, headed to us!"

This made Lilith and Thorne turn around to face this other person. A loud alarm was let out across the bridge.

"Visual?", asked Lilith.

"Camera visual confirmed and available!", answered the officer.

"Visual on Map Table!", ordered Thorne. With this the Map Table shifted it's holographic green Cartesian map and opened a screen, showing a video of the largest Zerg creature Lilith had ever seen, striding through the nightly skies of the same planet she, Thorne and the rest of the men and women working for the Dominion were stepping in.

This creature seemed like a monstrous reminder of several creatures, twisted together into a single, horrifying monster. The body itself reminded a firefly without any wings or luminance expected of one, with a small head guiding the abnormally large back, like a water drop on the horizontal position. This huge back, riddled with spines, spikes, thorns and tendrils, had it's upper part covered in thick carapace, divided by four huge purple-glowing orbs, akin to the huge balloon-like flesh orbs seen in most Zerg constructs, either in Char or other worlds. A line of spines, organized like human vertebrae, ran and extended from the back to the neck of the creature. The sides on this topward part featured two horns bent backwards, along with two tentacle-like organs that stretched from the back of the top carapace, over the second carapace plate that was shaped like the body of an earthly whale. The lower part of the body itself was whale-ish too, although with a large quantity of thorns running along the purple scaled skin without any purpose or function, with the two same tentacle organs spread below, that strangely acted as peddling for the creature. The head was clearly insect like, akin to a fly or a grasshopper, with two purple-glowing eyes and a brown bone carapace, with the difference it contained an uncountable number of tendrils below it, as well as two jaws that curved like the jaws of prehistoric mammoths of ancient earth times. This creature would seem practically harmless, were not for it's four over-extending tentacles that were as thick as the skyscrapers in Korhal, with spikes on it's tip that somehow were larger than the Dominion's feared Nuclear missiles themselves.

The impressing and, at the same time, horrifying image of the gigantic Zerg beast had made Lilith herself widen her eyes in a similar horror. She saw it. Saw it on Char. That must have been the said 'Leviathan' the pirate and his men faced. She faced another one of those beasts, although it was smaller, compared to this one, on the other side of Char. It managed to take out five Battlecruisers and God knows how many fighters with the most minimal effort required. One of them especially, fell before it could even fire the first shot, as some huge bile was spit from the creature and it literally covered the Battlecruiser, making it explode in a matter of seconds. How the hell Lilith and her ship weren't caught before the Yamato volley caught the beast was never known.

"Get the warning to the Fleet now!", shouted Lilith. "We have a Class 10 Zerg threat incoming! Ready battle stations and activate Def-Mat upon contact, warn all ships of offensive capabilities."

* * *

_On the White Star..._

Pretty much like the personnel on other Battlecruisers, boots clamped on the metal floor of corridors, bridge, engineering and other areas of the ship. There was an air of stress and nervous feelings as the people not working on the terminals ran left to right to perform duties before the first shot afflicted the ship. Such was the pre-battle tension.

Hardscape himself only stared at the Star Map table, watching the video recently sent by the Battlecruiser _Wrath._ _What in the name of Mother Earth was that creature and where the hell Kerrigan bred it?_ So far, he and his fleet had only seen Zerg menace to the imposing Battlecruisers in numbers, be those hordes of the already known Mutalisks, Corruptors, Scourges and many other small strains seen through the First Great War, the Brood War, and the beginning of the Second Great War. That wasn't good. That was actually the most terrible of news. A beast this large could only mean the Swarm stepped the aerial combat to another level. Where they could fight capital ship with 'capital' ship.

He walked towards Emperor Mengsk, who was at the viewing window at the Bridge's front. The Emperor was not going to like the news. The man himself was already nervous. He could hardly be blamed. The Zerg were not expected to arrive at Phaeton, especially at that hour. So close, when two of the most dangerous persons in the Koprulu Sector were about to be captured by the Dominion. No doubt they were there to rescue their 'Queen'. The question, however, was how the hell they found out where Kerrigan and Raynor were. Someone must have told. The Dominion, like any other power, was prone to have spies, traitors and informants within, and Mengsk's government couldn't keep watch over everyone, every time.

Or there was another guess, one Hardscape really despised: _They got lucky._ Maybe the Zerg Swarm did not run amok, unlike the last time when the United Earth Directorate had managed to disrupt Kerrigan's rule. Maybe this time they were prepared and they knew what to do, starting to search her through out the Koprulu Sector. And one of them found her here. Still, it was not good news. It meant there was more of them, and they would come within the hour. It meant they'd have to find Kerrigan, and fast.

"Emperor.", started Hardscape. "We have a problem."

"I ought to agree, Captain.", spoke Mengsk, very much nervous as he still kept looking through the window. "We DO have a problem."

Hardscape changed his look from the Emperor of the Dominion to the silhouette of the giant monster outside, almost fully pitch black, were not for glowing purple orbs in it's body and, presumably, it's head. It displayed it's spikes, thorns and other visible forms to the starry sky in it's back. Four massive hose-shaped forms extended and crawled from it's supposed scaled belly to the outsides as well. Hardscape widened his eyes in shock at how large was the beast. It was ten, twenty times larger than what the video sent by the Wrath suggested! The space it occupied could overtake at least ten to twenty Battlecruisers outside.

"I will make one question, Hardscape, and it better be the truth.", Mengsk said. "_Do we have nuclear ordinance aboard?_"

Hardscape only let out a sigh in regret. Given the size of the beast, unleashing the most trustworthy weapon of man for those situations was always tempting and reliable.

"I'm afraid not, sir.", answered Captain Hardscape. "But the fleet reports all other weapons are activated, Yamato Cannon charging now."

Mengsk, although regretting not having the nuclear missiles he could always trust, at least had something that could match it's destructive capacity, to a degree.

"Then we make due.", said Mengsk. "All ships firing their Yamato charges at once, this should bring the end of this... _thing!_"

"Contact approaching optimal firing range!", said a voice behind both. "Thirty seconds!"

"Captain, Number One and communications!", shouted Mengsk, turning around and facing the crew. "Inform Battle Stations and other ships: Fire at will, use all weapons, spare no ammunition! Unleash all fighters, Vikings, Wraiths, Scoutships, Valkyries, I don't care! If there are no ammunitions left, ram the damn ship down that creature's throat! This Zerg must be destroyed at any costs, **IS THAT CLEAR!?**"

With this speech said, he returned to the view of the monster out at the viewing window, staring at the _White Star_ with it's creepy, purple '_eyes_', like some monster staring at a five-year old child on his bed. Mengsk was more nervous than ever, now.

This time, he felt like he was that child.

* * *

Aboard the gigantic beast, the dark eye saw the scenario ahead. A large fleet of Battlecruisers, doubtless armed to the teeth. Close to fifty or sixty. How curious, given the Dominion's supposedly vast resources, that Mengsk held such a small number of ships. Ships that looked like beetles close to the size of the Leviathan. It seemed the plan worked, but the eye wouldn't make assumptions. There could always be more. Still, the demonstration in breaching their '_impenetrable_' blockade had roused the beast. It was good to know that, despite the advanced weaponry, subtle tactics and all other 'classy' factors in battle, the largest size was still reliable.

The eye saw the ships organized in lines, all stopped and in position for optimal firing cover. And to fire they would, but not because that was their job or some senseless show of force. It was because of fear. The eye understood. They must have known why the Zerg came. They knew the aliens had come for their Queen, but the eye predicted that the moment the Leviathan breached Phaeton. The eye depended on the 'How'. How the Zerg would get Kerrigan away from their hands and, especially, from Jim Raynor's hands. But the fools did not know, they thought the beast would simply breach the facility straight forward. And this was the advantage the dark eye was counting on. And, judging the manner the fleet was organized and itching to fire, they had taken the bait.

It was show time.

"We are within the Terran's firing range.", spoke the deep, monotonous male voice. "They will attack at any moment."

"Of course they will.", spoke the female voice, strangely devious. "Let them fire first, let's give them this appreciation. Let's see how desperate they really are. Then we'll show them how... _committing_ we are. I'll only issue one strict limit: Do not, in ANY circumstances, take down Mengsk's cruiser! I want him to see him and his men fail again, and I want him to live to lament coming close again and not making it. I want to see him rage from front row center, and I can't have that if his _White Star_ dims it's light off. I trust I'm crystal clear in this, ain't I?"

"The Terrans may realize the distraction.", spoke the male voice. "They may realize our plans."

"_If only they could..._", scoffed the female voice. "That's the thing about humans, they're unpredictable only when they want so. Otherwise they refuse to see past the obvious, past the fact we tore ten of their ships to face them, when we could be after Kerrigan where she really is. You should learn a bit of that, Abathur."

"I beg your pardon, Izsha.", answered this 'Abathur'. "Psychologics is not within my area of research."

"Psychology, you idiot. _Psychology!_", said 'Izsha', angry as she did not like the wrong pronunciation. "Is everything ready?"

"As you ordered.", answered Abathur.

"Good.", said Izsha. "Now it's just waiting..."

* * *

Five seconds. Four seconds. Three. Two. One.

"Target in firing range!", shouted one of the operators aboard the _White Star._ "Batteries ready."

"Emperor?", asked Hardscape.

"All batteries.", spoke Mengsk. "FIRE!"

* * *

It had begun.

With a simple order, muzzle fire erupted from the rapid firing gun turrets installed across the Imperial flagship, starting their attack on the giant, hulking beast standing before the fleet. The gigantic tentacles had not moved yet, but this did not matter to the people aboard. The rules clearly strict, kill or be killed, and, given the size of those tentacles, it was a rule to be taken much seriously. As the rapid muzzle fire started racing towards the creature, so did some periodic, slow beams of the Drakken Pulse Cannons, installed in strategic positions along the massive Terran capital ship, meant for larger targets that would normally be found in the form of other hostile Battlecruisers or even Protoss starships. As the _White Star_ started opening fire, so did the remainder of the Battlecruisers, as a literal swarm of unidirectional muzzle fire quickly fired at the giant Zerg time and again, tens of thousands of stockpiled ammunition fabricated in the Core Worlds being all spit in steel and fire to the enemy.

Given the size of the beast, it was slow, and thus almost all, if not every shot, performed it's direct hit on the beast. Left and right, up and down, the projectiles or beams violently hit through the creature's thick carapace, perfurating small holes and letting out microscopic chunks of this carapace to fly astray for a time and then start falling due to gravity. The same either happened to the beams of the Drakken cannons or they would just try to burn through the carapace, like a cutting beam laser tries to cut metal.

However, the dark eye called 'Izsha' thought, this wasn't enough. The Leviathan's carapace was too thick for it to fall, even for the sheer firepower being spilled here. Occasionally, from inside the beast, the eye could feel a bit of tremor, probably from their Drakken-class weaponry. They, the humans, by the time they learned how to weaponize energy, they came to use it sparingly. For the energy was more effective than solid projectile, much faster and wouldn't leave much trace left. Plus, it could burn, another benefit along with the fact of perfurating and cutting through metal or living flesh. Still it wasn't enough. No, they would soon resort to heavier weaponry, other than just small anti-fighter batteries and anti-capital cannons. They would dump their heaviest stockpile, also in numbers.

This, the eye thought, was when the fun would literally start this time.

"The Terrans have made their move.", the deep voice called 'Abathur' said. "The strains are prepared to launch as ordered."

"Wait.", Izsha's feminine said, a bit stressed and right after Abathur spoke his line.

"The carapace may not resist such concentrated fire-", said Abathur when it's voice was interrupted by the female one.

"Abathur!", spoke Izsha, annoyed. "_Wait!_"

* * *

There was something wrong. A literal, diagonal fire rain was spewing over the creature, and still it didn't seem like it was affecting it at all. The beast outside only unleashed a fearsome roar, like if it was not afraid to die, and that could be heard from there. Either the carapace of this creature was really thick or it was adapted to the basic kind of Terran weaponry, even if such was the most effective weaponry they could muster. Typical Zerg methodology.

"The weaponry doesn't seem to affect the beast.", spoke Hardscape. "It doesn't even feel like it's hurt!"

"We'll use heavy weaponry then!", said Mengsk, angry. "Unleash Missile Pods, full salvo, fire on my mark!"

"I doubt we can even scratch the surface with those, sir!", protested Hardscape.

"Then it'll buy us time, damn you!", shouted Mengsk, furious. "At least until our damn Yamato Cannon is ready to fire! Now, fire the damn warheads!"

The Terran Battlecruisers kept on firing, but then something else also came out of those ships. Small fireballs curving around and letting out small white trails of smoke, all coming out at once from the fleet of ships, as if ordered to fire all at the beast. It remained so as the cluster of those hundreds of small missiles and rockets traveled towards the Leviathan, all of them pointing at it's massive target. Some of the missiles happened to hit the hose bodies of some of the huge tentacles of the beast, letting out small, but visible explosions as the tentacles recoiled in predicted pain and the beast let out a small cry on the matter. The remainder hit the body and a chunk of those the head, as fierce explosions covered the surface of the beast, but only making a pyrotechnic show as chunks of carapace, larger than what the muzzle fire and cannon beams could form, were spilled out into the air.

A violent tremor was felt as the beast waved in some pain. As Izsha foresaw, the Terrans moved to other alternatives. This time, they unleashed their missile stockpiles, which at best must have only skewered the carapace of the Leviathan. But they also must have hit some of the 'soft spots' of the creature. Of course, according to the dark eye, there was not much to do, as not even Zerg can armor themselves everywhere, but they can surely try.

"The carapace was damaged.", spoke Abathur's voice. "The first and third tentacles have been affected by their weaponry."

"Now, Abathur.", Izsha's voice spoke, defiantly. "Now, the battle begins. Begin the attack. Pick all ships at once, let's delay the destruction part a bit."

With this finalized, an initial motion pull was felt as the beast started advancing towards the nimble fleet. The beast let out a fearsome roar as the eye let out a small smirk. If, of course, the eye had a mouth to smirk with.

* * *

The explosion fireballs from the missiles seemed to have worked their magic by the time they hit their targets. A temporary good sign, if missiles were the answer. Still, in Arcturus Mengsk's opinion, it would take much more to hurt the gigantic Zerg strain, and, since the _White Star_ and all other ships had fired all their ports, it would take a while to reload the tubes and prime all rockets to fire.

Some promise was shown when some missiles accidentally hit the bodies of those huge tentacles. The gigantic, long organs seemed to recoil the moment the missiles had hit them, meaning they lacked any armor those thick Zerg bones were. This provided an alternative, should they not manage to pierce the Zerg creature before it fought back. They could concentrate on those tentacles, leaving the monster partially toothless.

Or so he thought. For, as Mengsk saw, the tentacles, once recoiling, were now reacting and starting to advance towards his fleet. His position. His eyes widened as the tentacles approached his ship...

"**TAKE COVER!**", shouted Mengsk, ducking to cover, preparing for the impact.

But the tentacles did not hit the _White Star._ Why? A golden opportunity to destroy the Dominion, and the beasts refuse to end his life?

Something was wrong.

"That was too close!", shouted Hardscape. "Sir, it's better we don't remain at the front!"

"Agreed!", spoke Mengsk, still scared from his near-death experience. "Get us behind the fleet, keep firing!"

"Helm! Full thrust backwards, sustain battery fire!", ordered Hardscape.

* * *

It was close. Were not for her shouting to activate the Defensive Matrix shielding, Lilith Daniels would not have lived longer than she had. The massive tentacle headed straight towards the hammerhead bow of her ship's front, intended on drilling through it. Luckly, the shielding itself had deflected this piercing strike, making the tentacle recoil a bit and then moving in to strike another Battlecruiser. The impact violently shook the entire ship, especially the bridge, making the captain and most of the people on foot at the bridge fall to the ground.

Slowly coming to her feet, looking through the battle outside the viewing window, she saw not only the tentacles moving towards the fleet and violently poking their targets, who could not be afflicted by the tentacles yet because of the Defensive Matrix shielding, but also she's seen green glowing orbs, akin to meteors, being spit in small portions, but all coming down towards the fleet. Either Zerg acid or bile, or both. The beast was now attacking. But that was not the alarming factor. The alarming factor was that it waited for the fleet to unleash it's missile pods on it. It was clearly waiting for the fleet to make it's first move.

Whether the beast did it on purpose or there was some driving force behind it, there was an intelligence playing with the Dominion. That was never a good sign.

"Report!", ordered Lilith, turning around to face the bridge.

"Defensive Matrix cover at forty-three percent!", spoke a nearby male voice, working one of the computer consoles. "That tentacle packed quite the punch, I don't think we can sustain another hit like that!"

"Kau!", shouted Lilith, looking at the asian operator. "I need the damn Yamato Cannon, how longer will it take!?"

"Three minutes, charge at sixty-nine percent.", shouted Kau.

Another tremor shook the ship as Lilith turned around. She saw some of those green orbs racing to her ship and being detonated before they actually hit the plating of the _Wrath._ The projectiles were actually hitting the Defensive Matrix shielding that defended them thus far. But the _Wrath_ was not the only one, for others were also being afflicted. The beast was attacking all at the same target, without focusing on one at a time. It did not make sense, in a strategic way, and still... _Somehow_, it made perfect sense.

"Doubt we'll have three minutes, judging how this thing is attacking.", said Lilith. "What of the fighter squadrons?"

"All wings on hot stand-by.", spoke the female communications officer. "Waiting go code for launch."

"Full launch, suggest the other ships to do the same!", order Lilith.

"The Emperor already ordered it, he wants us to bring it down by any means.", spoke Thorne. "All wings will start attacking now."

A loud rocket sound was heard across the bridge as Lilith saw the dozens of different small ships, all of Terran design. A few of them looked like traditional modern day air fighters, others possessed a more futuristic design. Some, in particular, had three wings that formed a near Y-shaped triad. And they all, forming a huge assault formation were headed to the beast.

The Dominion Air Force was going to play it's part in the battle.

* * *

Izsha, the dark eye, had seen them make their move, and now it's beast, the Leviathan, was fighting back. Obviously the Terrans had activated the shielding systems of their larger craft, and now were sending their fighter squadrons to maneuver like flies meant to harass a larger beast.

That was typical of Terrans. The heavy guns remained in the back for support as the smaller ones fought with all they could, hoping to hit some critical part of the Zerg monster or distract it long enough. Still, the eye had planned for it too. And the time for unleashing the newest trump card had come.

"Release the strains, Abathur.", Izsha said. "_All of them._ Let's bring the act to the next level. Have them all simply fly around and distract those fighters or take pot-shots at the Cruisers. Maneuver the Scourge clusters amongst the Battlecruisers, force them to fire on one another."

With this said, on some part of the Leviathan's belly side, stood a tightly closed entrance, like the vertical jaws of a worm beast. The jaws remained close, with it's monstrous teeth locking the gap between both mouth parts, until this '_mouth_' opened, revealing a wide tunnel opening to the beast's interiors. Inside the once dark entrance, dozens of fearsome yellow-orange eyes opened and loud screech noises were heard inside, bestial roar erupting from the inside of this once closed entrance. That was before beasts of different sizes and shapes took off and started flying out the open nightly air. There were a few types that were the traditional Overlords of the Swarm, but, other than those, lied other Zerg beasts, all divided in three different types.

The first type was a strange mix between an oversized earthworm with the head shaped like the dragons of human fairytales, with four massive jaws on it's mouth, that lacked any feet or paws, having nothing but it's body and it's pair of oversized dragon-like wings. The body of this Zerg type curved like a scorpion's tail, in which it's head above skimmed through the air while the mouth-like opening below served as a makeshift cannon of sorts. This type was known as the Mutalisk, a traditional Zerg flying strain dating from the days when the Swarm was not under the rule of Kerrigan, but of an Overmind that, to make this breed, assimilated the mantis screamer from the Dinares Sector and many other such worthy species to integrate it's gene strands into the ranks of the Swarm. Below it's scaled, armored carapace distributed along it's body, stood very small replicae of the same gas orbs seen in Overlords, which expelled it's gas to propel themselves in areas without any atmosphere, including the deep space. Despite the fact Mutalisks in space continued to flap their wings, this was nothing of use or benefit to Zerg flying capabilities and was nothing but a leftover instinct. The Mutalisk's weapon of choice was the Glaive Wurm, an inbred small voracious creature that had it's body shaped like a human glaive, three symmetrically distributed curved spikes that connected a fleshy center, and whose spikes distributed acidic blood, capable of melting through the thick armor of a Terran Marine. This said 'weapon' was even more dangerous for the fact those spikes were highly resistant, capable of bouncing through some intact armor plating before fully degrading explosively. But this was also controllable, for the wurm could be '_programmed_' by it's progenitor to either bounce through plating or explode at the very first hit.

The second type was an extremely small one, very small compared to a Mutalisk. Given it's Y-shaped appearance and the lack of any visual or auditive organs, all except a giant circular alien mouth, with teeth of several shapes and sizes. It contained no visible wings, other than it's thicker ones, obviously not made for flying. This second type, though it was much smaller than a Mutalisk, was much more dangerous for two facts and two facts alone. The first was the numbers, in which these creatures, called Scourges, could multiply with the same speed and numbers of Zerglings, in which two could be spawned from a single Zerg Larva, thus making sure there would always be a large number of these small creatures, that flew in groups known as Scourge Clusters. The second fact was that the Scourge, despite it's lack of visible chemicals or any other traits, was an explosive, flying living bomb: When in contact with it's intended target, the Scourge leeches into the hull of this target and then starts an internal metamorphosis, in which chemical and cellular agents produce and store a volatile 'liquid plasma' until breaching point of it's body, in which the Scourge explodes and releases it's liquid, intolerant to air, causing a small, but powerful chemical-induced explosion. The force of this explosion is powerful enough for one single Scourge to virtually destroy a small aircraft, as a few can effectively breach the toughest Neosteel plating of a Battlecruiser. With it's origins unknown, like the Mutalisk, the Scourge was also first seen during the days of the First Great War.

The third type was the most peculiar type of Zerg, as it's shape was radically different. This shape reminded a sort of a human brain, with it's 'flesh' being mostly gas orbs, encased in a thin, spiky carapace circle, that bore multiple tendrils in it's behind, of multiple sizes and shapes, as they harmlessly followed as the beast flew across space or air. It's front comprised three beaks and three jaws, both forming a geometric triangle pointing upwards. The beaks unfolded into a mouth that could spit an explosive spore that delivered the same, if not higher, firepower than the Mutalisk. But the spore was not only this creature's weapon, but also the fact it could spit concentrated acid upon a target, skewering the reactive armor of any spaceship, leaving it 'corruptible' to aggression by smaller Zerg assaults. Perhaps that was why, for the heavily armed targets, the Corruptor was considered the most dangerous strain in actual times. Unlike the other strains, that appeared with the original Zerg Swarm, the Corruptor was designed by the Swarm of Kerrigan to complement the Zerg aerial forces in facing the actual threat the Terran Battlecruisers and Protoss Carriers possessed. More the former than the latter, as the mighty Protoss fleet could never fully recover itself since the fall of Aiur, no matter how many times the stubborn alien race would try to rebuild it.

From the worm-jaw shaped side entrance of the Leviathan, dozens of those Mutalisks and Corruptors flew into the open, respectively performing flight maneuvers in harmonic arc trajectories and letting out primal screams of fury as they traveled towards the hostile enemies. With them, came clusters of Scourges that were twice the numbers of Mutalisks and Corruptors, for their said capacity of multiplying many numbers with few mutations.

Izsha saw in pristine contemplation the beasts the Leviathan unleashed flew head-on towards the Dominion fleet. Now, the battle stepped it's next degree of confrontation.

* * *

"All squadrons, all units, this is _White Star_ AirCom.", spoke a male voice as Henderson simply heard, piloting his trusted Viking along with the multitude of aircraft on his side, front and back, with different height levels. "You know the importance of this mission. You know what to do. Good luck, ladies and gentleman."

With this finished, the radio went silent, as Henderson only kept piloting forward, uncomfortable, like most pilots would be, on the target he and others would fight. A gigantic alien beast, worthy of tales of mythology, where small heroes would face creatures the size of entire cities, all to be reminded and have their names reminded through the annals of history.

Except this was no fairytale, no mythology, no legend or wild goose chase. This was a real monster. An actual threat. One his Viking, other Vikings like his and ships of other formats and sizes would face. Three such types were present. The first seemed like a starship pulled out of antique arcade video-games, with simple two wings bending down and a small cockpit. The second was Y-shaped, with it's three wings extending left, right and down, each with a bike-sized cannon on it's end, and two flaps on it's back. The third was the heaviest of ships, with six engines lined on it's behind and two side flaps forming a V-shape, and it's 'body' looking like a flying minivan. But a minivan that carried a full complement of rocket launchers. These three types, respectively, were the Tac Fighter, the Wraith and the Valkyrie. Ships that could pull their weight for the Dominion Air Force. And now, together, they'd pull the heaviest weight in history.

"_Look at the size of this thing!_", Henderson heard through the radio, also a male voice. "How the hell are we supposed to bring THAT down!?"

"No chit-chat on channels, Shark Three-Seven.", another voice said on the radio, male too. "Remember the saying, the bigger they are, the harder they fall."

"Harder indeed, Shark Three-Seven.", Henderson said. "Harder to even make it fall."

"Roger.", the voice answered.

"All callsigns, this is Brunhilda Four, incoming contact, smaller Zerg strains, engage and destroy. Identifying for combat assessment, over.", spoke a new voice, this time female and, by the accent, a British one.

"I see them, acquiring target, heating guns.", Henderson said, pressing a button on the cockpit panel, activating his weapons systems.

"Shark Two-four, here they come!", spoke a male voice on the radio.

As Henderson turned on the thermo view mode on his pilot helmet, white glowing balls, the size of basket balls, started racing towards the formation.

"Incoming, incoming, performing evasive!", spoke Shark Three-Seven, as all ships broke the formation and started scattering through out the open air. Henderson himself shifted the Viking to bottom left, almost being hit by a Zerg spore.

"Identify multiple bandits, closing fast! Firing! Firing Halo!", spoke Brunhilda Four. "Identify Mutalisk strain, identify Corruptor strain, identify Scourge clusters! Air compromise is severe, all elements, watch your evading!"

Henderson, piloting his fighter, had started earn his pay. Provided he was still alive to collect by the end of the day. The very first target had already entered lock on his visor's targeting system. A Corruptor would be the first to fall to him on that battle. Those Mutalisks earlier, in his opinion, couldn't be called kills in combat, as it sounded more like an air skirmish.

"Red Zero-Six, have a lock!", Henderson said, pressing the top handle button. "Fox two sent!"

The missile had launched out of the Viking's pod, leaving it's trademark white smoke trail as it reached it's target, seemingly slower than the Mutalisk, and exploded on the target.

"Red Zero-Six, confirm bandit down, Corruptor.", spoke Henderson. "Good kill, good kill."

"Available callsigns, this is _Wrath_ AirCom.", spoke the male voice Henderson was familiarized with. "Multiples attacking fleet position, full speed and weapons hot. Too fast for batteries to intercept, requesting HSA support, any elements respond."

Henderson knew what this meant. He knew how fighters, especially when facing Zerg, whom had a very fast air force, were vital when someone requested a High Speed Aerial support. He spun and steered the Viking to face a full 180 turn as his left hand worked the cockpit panel to recalibrate the radio channel that would allow him to speak to the Air Command above the _Wrath._ His home Cruiser.

"Red Zero-Six to _Wrath_ AirCom, answering HSA support, converging to you now, angels two, over.", spoke Henderson.

"Wrath AirCom, Red Zero-Eight, converging with Red Zero-Six to answer HSA, over.", Henderson heard the female voice that was thankful of him previously, minutes prior to the beginning of this battle.

"_Wrath_ AirCom, Red Zero-Three, answering HSA too, converging with responding units.", also said a third, male voice Henderson was acquainted with.

"Affirmative, sending aggressor data to you now.", answered AirCom. "Identifying, Mutalisks and Corruptors, over."

"Ten-four, AirCom.", spoke Henderson. "Okay, people, let's get to work."

With this finalized, Henderson steered to rejoin his two combat comrades in the classic arrow formation, all headed towards the Battlecruiser Wrath, one of many that was under siege by the Mutalisks and Corruptors ahead, whom were just flying around and shooting, without any sense of purpose or intention. But this was not the concern.

For vicious beasts like the Zerg, this was never the concern.

* * *

_Outside Phaeton..._

Human nature dictates human beings are naturally impatient. Humans were rather a force of action, quick, decisive and precise action. The saying '_Patience is a Virtue_' could only be applied to a so few, that had nothing to worry about or at least at the moment.

Such could not be applied to the _Hyperion_ and, particularly, Matt Horner. Neither it's comrade cruiser, the _Bucephalus._

It wasn't enough that Horner had to wait until the Defensive Matrix shielding was in operating conditions again, he had to wait every second while the siege on the research facility on the planet kept going on. It must have been over, given the size of the invading force and how few the defenses were. Horner, nervous and stressed, couldn't know or tell, he didn't have a crystal ball or any sort of future-predicting trinket or even second sight, but he could guess. And guesses were most unreliable compared to actual data. Then, there was the fact he had no news of Horner or Kerrigan so far. He feared they didn't make it after all. And if this happened, it'd fall to Horner to plan some rescue or something...

"Captain!", shouted an African-american voice, belonging to Marcus Cade, interrupting Horner's thoughts. "There's something going on in the planet, I can't tell what it is."

Horner walked to Cade's terminal, on the bridge's upper level, close to the frontal viewing window. '_Something going on_' was generally not a pleasant news. Of course, it couldn't be told if it was beneficial or prejudicial to one, but it certainly meant the situation was not the same anymore.

"What is it, Cade?", asked Horner, trying to keep his composure.

"The orbital blockade... It's broken.", said Cade. "The Dominion spacecraft have broken the blockade, they're all converging towards _Verhoeven_."

Horner widened his eyes at the news, leaning closer towards the console monitors. He'd seen the ring of Battlecruisers that was once guarding the planet from any possible breaching attempts now gone. Several hammerhead shapes were all thrusting forward into the planet, all converging in one point. The research facility.

"Makes no sense...", spoke Horner. "Either they got Kerrigan and Raynor or something else happened."

Something caught Horner's eye as he'd seen something moving erratically on the extreme left corner of the dustball named Phaeton. Still, despite the moving activity, the screen was a bit blurry, from the video streaming of the footage camera.

"What is that?", Horner asked, pointing at the moving objects. "Magnify."

Cade operated the keyboard on the console, typing commands as a white square on the screen focused on the objects and zoomed in the camera. The image displayed something Horner wished he'd see and not wanted to at the same time: Floating remainder of Terran ships, meaning the blockade was attacked. And the attack had the firepower or size to destroy all those unfortunate ships.

"What the...", Horner started, suspicious, before a loud alarm echoed throughout the _Hyperion_ bridge. Cade shifted his attention to the radar screen on the upper right monitor.

"Incoming contact!", said Cade, in an alarming tone. "Negative for eletronics, high thermal reading, closing very fast!"

Then, a loud sound, like a feral roar, echoed through the ship. Horner's eyes widened as he recognized the sounds.

Zerg Mutalisks.

"ALL BATTERIES, FREE FIRE, FREE FIRE-", shouted Horner when he was interrupted.

**BOOM!**

A sequel of explosions shook the entire Battlecruiser apart, the most violent tremor as warning klaxons boomed through out the chaos. The force of the shockwave was enough to either full people forward, towards the consoles, or back into the ground. The people standing up were thrown to the ground. Amongst those people were Horner and two other technicians walking across the bridge. The violent tremor stood for a few minutes before people could come on their feet.

"Swann! Damage Report!", shouted Horner, accessing the communication channel to the Engineering section from the Star Map table.

"Bridge, this is Milo Kachinsky!", spoke another male voice, with a Texan accent. "Chief Swann's been hit, he's wounded! We're taking him to infirmary now!"

"What happened?", asked Horner.

"Explosions on the third and fourth main engines and second secondary engine!", shouted Cade. "Caught us by surprise, it damaged the Warp Engines. The fire practically caught most of the room, it's nearly a ruin!"

"**GODDAMMIT!**", roared Horner, pressing off the button in the Star Map table, cutting communications. '_This isn't happening._', he thought, as people recovered from the tremor. It wasn't enough to fight the Dominion outnumbered and outgunned. Now the Zerg had entered the battle. That was the worse news. How they found Kerrigan, in the case IF they wanted to find her, he couldn't know. Maybe it was just a coincidence, the so hated coincidence, or it was known before, maybe even before their mighty Commander had arrived on Phaeton. The latter wasn't good, it only meant one thing.

Someone, or _something_, was intended on bringing Kerrigan back to the Swarm. Someone wanted to infest Kerrigan and return her as the Queen of Blades.

And now, doubtless an intentional, calculated move, it had destroyed the _Hyperion_'s engines, making it clear that it didn't want the _Hyperion_ on it's path or on it's tail.

"Sir, the Zerg!", shouted Cade, with an incredulous and, at the same time, upset face. "They're... they're running off!"

"What!?", asked Horner. "Running off?"

"Yes, sir, battle stations started firing when the Zerg simply pulled off and started racing to the planet.", explained Cade. "Seems they just wanted our engines gone!"

Horner's eyes then widened. A scheme started brewing on his head. It was indeed on purpose. They only wanted the engines to prevent the _Hyperion_ from following or entering the planet. And, behind all this, there was a plan. Horner could smell it.

"Get repair crews on the double, I want those engines fixed ASAP!", shouted Horner. "Get Raynor and Kerrigan on comms as soon as possible, hammer the damn comm button if you have to, but sound out the warning! The Zerg are coming and they're coming for them! FOR YESTERDAY!"

* * *

_On the tram..._

It had been a long ride. Perhaps too long. Not only because of the time it was taking, as well as there was no idea where they were going or how fast they were riding. Raynor and Kerrigan just sat there, on the wait, as the single wagon took them to their way out. Raynor tried three times to contact either Valerian or Horner to inform them that they were safe and were just waiting pickup on the landing pad, but to no avail. Maybe it were the underground tunnels or some other feature blocking their transmissions. Raynor had been snooping out the window, although there was no scenery to behold but the fast passing tiles of the underground tunnel the rail system ran through.

Kerrigan had been trying to assimilate what just occurred not hours ago. For four years she had been silent, alone and hopeless. Now, she discovered much of the world had changed. She was the greatest villain of the whole Sector. Hardly a surprise to her. She was already used to villainy, in her hours when serving the Confederacy. The only difference was that her deeds were now made public, for the masses to cry her down as the Devil's concubine. She discovered her fight had been for naught, as she brought down a band of tyrants only to put a single one, far worse. The same tyrant who was now hunting her, out of obvious desperation. She only wished she knew why such desperation, other than the fact she could put a bullet between his eyes without him even ever knowing.

"We're nearly there...", Raynor commented, turning around to face Kerrigan. "Hope Junior and the Umojans are okay..."

"I wouldn't hold much hope...", Kerrigan said, deadpanned. "Knowing Arcturus, he won't forgive his Prince son after hiding me. And he won't stop until he gets us."

"So much for a revenge attempt.", Raynor answered.

Kerrigan had shifted her view to her loved one. A sad look. As well as she let out a sigh in frustration.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Jim, but...", she said, hesitating. "There are times... I wished Arcturus just shot me and avoided all this mess."

Raynor simply looked at her. He could feel the pain. He felt it for all those years since Tarsonis, since all that mess began. For what was a bad battle already, with mankind trying to survive the vicious assault of monsters, had gone messy when he started learning of the Protoss and the Xel'Naga. Learning of things ordinary men could not fathom to bear, as, behind a war between Man and Alien, lied a plot of would-be gods and misbegotten concepts of '_perfection_'.

"Believe me, Sarah...", started Raynor. "Sometimes... I- **GAH!**"

A sudden feeling of a severe headache had caught Raynor, making him bow down and fall to the ground on his knees, letting fall his trusted C-14 Impaler.

"Jim? **JIM!?**", spoke Kerrigan, aghast, coming on her feet and close to Raynor, whom tried to put his hands, encased on those big, black metal gloves, to his head. Raynor writhed in pain as Kerrigan started growing desperate, putting her hands in Raynor's shoulders to see if she could help out.

Suddenly, the pain stopped as quick as it came. Raynor started breathing fast and heavily and looked very nervous as he faced his loved one, also desperate and, at the same time, dumbstruck.

"What...", Raynor started, feeling relieved, but still shocked. "What just happened!?"

"I don't know, Jim, you tell me!", shouted Kerrigan, shocked as well.

"Wish I could darlin'...", spoke Raynor, scared. "It's like... someone came up in my mind and started _messing_ with it!"

"It must be that blond bitch.", answered Kerrigan, starting to get angry as she looked around the wagon. "The moment I find her, I'll repay the hell! That's a promise!"

Then, a loud beeping sound started echoing across the wagon.

"We must be nearly there.", spoke Kerrigan. "You're sure you're fine, Jim?"

"No time to talk on it, woman.", Raynor said, picking his rifle. "Get your gun!"

With this said, the tram started slowing it's speed, stopping at a smaller, darker platform compared to the one in the facility. Not much could be seen but the armored door standing between the platform and the supposed hangar bay the Umojans had secreted. The tram's doors opened as Kerrigan and Raynor stepped out of it, guns triggered and ready to fire as if they were expecting a trap at any turn. Kerrigan approached the small console to the left of the door as Raynor remained a bit behind, to get her cover. She pressed a few buttons on the console, when the large, blue circular doodad at the center of the door started spinning clockwise. As it finished spinning, the door split in half, each half sliding to the left and right sides.

The hangar the doors revealed was a wide one, capable of fitting a few vessels that could land. Crates containing either supplies or fuel in the form of green barrels were spread across the wide, gray metal floor, tiled in plates like a high-tech puzzle. Some transport ships, doubtlessly landed for repair and refueling, were spread and were a larger image than the crates. One of them seemed to stretch farther than the others, with a small pilot cabin above the obviously huge cargo bay, with six engine rockets on it's back, two of them attached to wings that could turn vertically, allowing this vessel to take off or land vertically.

What came next was the last scene Raynor and Kerrigan wanted to see. Four Umojan troops standing in cover behind some crates as they fired against Dominion Marines and one heavier, red clad trooper, akin to the Marauder but with a different color set. Plus, it's 'backpack' piece seemed like it stored two compact fuel tanks. Kerrigan recognized the trooper as a 'Firebat', an armored assault trooper specialized in close combat, particularly against the masses of smaller Zerg, which made the flamethrower bearing soldier even more requested and necessary in frontline combat. Those Dominion soldiers seemed to be coming down from a small, white Dropship in mid-air. That wasn't good news.

"Ah, hell, they found the docking bay!", Raynor shouted.

"Cover fire!", exclaimed Kerrigan, as the couple fired from behind the Umojans, scoring hits on the Dominion Marines. Two had fallen down as the Firebat stepped upfront, attempting to shield the troops under attack, but not for long. Kerrigan set her human eyes on her C-20A's rifle scope, trying to find an optimal firing target. Despite the fact her target was moving forward, she pushed the trigger. The bullet the rifle spilled flew at an abnormal speed and hit the Firebat's head piece, piercing the armor, leaving an open, breathable hole. The Firebat simply tripped and fell to the ground, not coming up again. Raynor's rifle kept on firing their targets, missing some as some Dominion Marines tried to take cover, only to be pushed out of them forcingly by Kerrigan's psionic potential. The Umojan Marines, as they saw the couple helping them out, wasted no effort in coming out of cover and firing all the ammunition they had at the time, all in that Dominion battle group.

As all figures fell and the Dominion Dropship started flying away, the Umojan Marines went on their feet and proceeded to meet the couple.

"Thank God for the one-woman army!", spoke one of the Umojan Marines.

"Miss Kerrigan, we've been expecting you.", spoke another Marine, as he briefly saluted the couple. "Dropship's ready to depart, but the navigational system's still needs some calibrating. Just some reconfigurations and it will take you and Raynor out of there."

"I'll do it.", readily said Raynor. Kerrigan simply looked at him with a strange face.

"You?", Kerrigan asked, curious. "YOU can reconfigure a Dropship?"

"Saved my butt a couple of times, darling.", spoke Raynor. "Think you can hold them?"

"Okay, get to it if you want, Jim.", Kerrigan said, giving up on the matter. "I'm fine, here."

With this finished, Raynor started walking towards the seemingly deactivated white Dropship ahead, that was at the end of the hangar and into open air, with it's cargo hold open. Strong white floodlight illuminated the hangar pad at that time, that stretched itself ahead of the seemingly bottomless cliff below, covered by the dust of shifting sands.

Suddenly, another sound, a beeping one was heard, this time in Kerrigan's back. By the hangar doors leading to the tram.

"Is there someone else coming we should know?", asked one of the Umojan Marines.

"It can't be, it's just us!", spoke Kerrigan, triggering her rifle. "Ready up, we got company coming!"

She and the Marines took their spots behind the crates, knowing that, whoever is coming to attack them, would already attack in full force. No doubt the Dominion had only recently discovered the secret landing pad the Umojans had. Why they were taking longer to bring at least half their army to the place, she didn't know. Still, this didn't mean they wouldn't come. They would. And she and Raynor would have to get out fast.

The circle in the center of the hangar doors spun again, meaning the halves would slide aside again. She pressed her grip of the C20-A, in preparation for the inevitable coming storm. So did the Umojan Marines close to her.

The doors sled aside, revealing a full task force of Marines and some Marauders.

Kerrigan and the Umojan soldiers opened fire, hitting two Marines as they fell to the ground. One of the Marauders lifed his left arm and recoiled it a bit. A loud '_thoomp_' was heard as the grenade he fired hit close to one of the stacked crates, exploding and making the crates fly violent and randomly, as well as making the Umojan trooper whom was behind it fly behind. The trooper wasn't dead, but he wouldn't live much longer if he'd keep being fired upon like that. Kerrigan's eye pupils turned golden yellow as she recoiled her right arm and then spun it forward towards the Marauder, the energy released making the armored black soldier fly backwards. The Marauder had not come up. Obviously the body under the armor had not resisted the impact of the Kinetic Blast and fell from either excessive blunt force trauma or internal bleeding.

The Dominion soldiers took cover amongst the crates they could find on their side as the remainder were shot dead. Afar, by the tram platform, the same tram that took Raynor and Kerrigan to that hangar started traveling back.

"They have a Dropship! Get a fighter squadron in here, now!", Kerrigan heard a male voice say, doubtless belonging to one of the Dominion Marines whom took cover.

Kerrigan saw it. And she knew it wasn't good news. At least the half of it. The other half meant that the Dominion for now would or could only use the tram, which would mean only a few infantry would come over time.

Still, they would come.

* * *

_Outside Verhoeven..._

The battle still raged on between man and alien. Muzzle fire, beam laser and missiles flew on as the Dominion fleet fought a desperate battle against a single Zerg monster. But a monster that could surpass the size of this fleet.

The Leviathan's tentacles had caused random, but considerable damage nonetheless. These massive organs as well as the acid bile spit by the small holes spread across the creature had severely damaged a good number of Battlecruisers, whose Defensive Matrix was on the verge of failing. The _White Star_, the flagship of the Emperor, was afar from the battle, after almost being afflicted by the monster.

The monster's organs and 'weapons' weren't the only problem, though. The beast had housed also a good number of smaller aerial Zerg aboard it's supposed belly, in the form of Mutalisks, Scourges and Corruptors. These smaller strains as well as the Dominion Air Force had been deadlocked into fierce combat, suffering casualties more on one side than in another. The side losing more was the Zerg, but it was irrelevant, both because of numbers: Where a single Zerg would fall, there would always be ten more to take it's place.

Such was the peculiar, but unfortunate situation of the Battlecruiser _Wrath_. The gun batteries had been trying time and again to score hits on the smaller Zerg flyers since the attacks against the gargantuan Leviathan had proven fruitless. The problem was that those flyers were just too fast for the batteries to catch, and, if they did, it were only lucky shots that did little against these strains.

Their hope now lied with a small squadron whom they asked for help. Three Vikings that now were not only fighting to protect the Battlecruiser. They were fighting also to survive.

Such was the case of Ebert Henderson, as he piloted his Viking to get rid of the two Mutalisks chasing after him.

"Red Zero-Six, bandits still on hot pursuit, can't shake, can't shake!", shouted Henderson. "Performing evasives!"

His grip on the handle tightened as he steered his Viking left and upwards, spinning to avoid the shots the Mutalisks were performing at him. However, his visor also picked and locked a squid-like figure flying near the Battlecruiser.

"Red Zero-Six, opportunity target, Corruptor! Still evading! Firing!", spoke Henderson, pressing the top button in the handle. "Fox two sent!"

The missile flew high in the air, reaching up to it's target and exploding it in another fireball.

"Red Zero-Six, bandit down, good kill!", Henderson said, before he felt a violent tremor and an explosion sound on his Viking. "I'm hit! Taking fire! Need assistance, someone respond, dammit!"

He bankrolled rightwards as the smoking sick-green balls flew from behind him and into the horizon or the ground below. He could still hear the screeches and feral roar that could be heard inside the compact metal plane he was piloting, and screams that were occurring randomly.

However, the screeches were interrupted by explosions up close. The explosions didn't shake the Viking this time, but Henderson knew something could've happened.

'_Great, what now?_', he thought.

"You can thank me much later, _mein herr._", spoke a female voice through the radio, a gruff one and with a seemingly germanic accent. "Skuld Three, at your service."

Before Henderson's eyes, a spaceship shape that bore six engine rockets, lined in columns, and two flaps forming a V-shape had taken position in the front of Henderson's Viking.

It was his protector, much like the mythology of old. The lady in the horse that would protect him and take him to the hall of great warriors should he fall.

He was her Viking and she was his Valkyrie. Henderson smiled.

"Appreciated, Skuld Three.", he said. "Think you can help me out with those buggers?"

"We all are, good friend.", said Skuld Three, letting out a small chuckle.

"Noted.", spoke Henderson. "Let's get to work?"

"Perfect!", answered Skuld Three, steering right and upwards, towards directly the beast. "_Viel glück, Rot-Nüll-Sechs._"

Henderson smiled as he steered his Viking the other way around, his visor locking into two more Zerg Mutalisks. As he was about to fire, he heard that feminine german voice again.

"_Gute nacht, Fieckëlmütter!_"

A volley of missiles flew amidst those Mutalisks but then exploded as they went near them. The explosions forced Henderson to turn around as the blast caught both Mutalisks, making them fall down in incinerating husks. As he turned, he saw that same Valkyrie flying nearby, this time past him.

"Red Zero-Six, Skuld Three, dammit, lady, those were mine!", he shouted on the radio. The female German chuckled.

"All is fair in_ Liebe ünd Krieg._", spoke Skuld Three. "Don't worry, _mein herr_, that'ze last time. Command has me taking care of bigger fish."

"Roger.", spoke Henderson, sarcastically. "See you later, German. Red Zero-Six out."

* * *

The battle had been raging, and quite well. The distraction was working as planned. At least, so far.

The Dominion Fleet must not have suspected of what 'Izsha' caught on it's ever catching watch. Otherwise, they would have devised a way around this conflict, in which they would be on their way to the place Kerrigan was headed or must have arrived. However, here they were, unloading all their arsenals, both capital ships and fighters, on the hopes of bringing the beast down. The Leviathan, however, as Izsha too well knew, was not invulnerable either. The thick carapace had sustained it's fair amount of damage as well. The most critical came in the form of that missile pod barrage that came in earlier, but that was according to plan. The desperation of the Terrans in destroying the Leviathan before securing Kerrigan's capture was pivotal for the plan to work.

Still, even the dark eye that seemed to command the giant Zerg monster called Leviathan couldn't afford to delay longer than needed. She could escape their grasp. She could secret herself with her lover into that hulking, outdated Battlecruiser and then try to escape. Well, if that happened, at least Izsha had an advantage. The advantage that the package sent ruined the _Hyperion_'s moving and warping capabilities, making a boarding attempt easy. The Leviathan had ground strains that could disable the defenses and eliminate all resistance in a matter of minutes. Then, there is the Dominion Fleet and air force, which would be put out of the picture as well. But not killing, no, the dark eye wouldn't have that. Izsha wanted Mengsk screaming in fury and frustration in his failure. And Izsha would have that.

Now it was just waiting. Waiting for the next card the Terrans would play. The card that would start the next phase of the plan. It wouldn't be long before the Dominion

The eye could see resistance was effective, it was killing most of the Mutalisks, Corruptors and Scourges flying around. But that was according to plan as well. The Leviathan had a second wave of flyers stored away, ready to perform their paper and become the better actors in the ever-dramatic theater of war.

"Our tentacles report severe damage. Carapace resistance is compromised.", spoke the deep monotonous male voice of Abathur. "We may not survive should we linger any longer."

"*_sigh_* It's as planned, Abathur.", spoke the voice of Izsha, sounding annoyed. "But you're also right. The Dominion is handling our harassing far more furiously than I thought. Didn't think I got up that far on them. Also, my Overlords saw our guest arrive at the _secret_ landing platform right behind us. We just need to wait."

"Wait?", inquired Abathur. "Wait for what, Izsha? And why to wait, when we can carry out the next part of your plan immediately?"

"I _need_ them to launch their next attack, one that, personally, I'm not sure we can handle.", explained Izsha. "I didn't want it either, Abathur, but if we leave before they unleash their Yamato Cannons, they'll suspect our behavior. Then they'll know the attack wasn't real. We have to take the pain, my friend, we must do this. Now, what of the second wave?"

"The second wave is prepared, awaiting your order to attack.", answered Abathur. "I personally hope you know what you are doing, Izsha."

"I KNOW what I'm doing!", spoke Izsha, feeling insulted. "_At least, I think I know..._"

* * *

_On the White Star..._

Emperor Mengsk was stressed and nervous.

What almost happened to him was a bit too close for comfort. The beast's huge tentacles seemed to want to hit his flagship. Instead they only flew close to it, as the ship unleashed it's ammunition and energy reserves on it. Mengsk, frightened from the recent experience, couldn't tell if it was luck whom saved him or if that was on purpose, meant to shock the leader of men. Psychology, after all, played some pivotal role in the art of war, where wounds could heal, but a mental trauma wouldn't be so easily forgotten.

To defeat an enemy on the field of battle was not enough. He had to be reminded that his actions, there and elsewhere, now and tomorrow and after, were _pointless_ and _useless._ He had to be proven wrong and be afraid.

This almost happened to Arcturus Mengsk, but it backlashed as well. This made him want to personally enforce the destruction of this beast. It clearly wanted to pick up a fight with him. And a fight the beast would get. This time, he would unleash the mightiest weapon his Battlecruiser harbored. Combined with the power of other Battlecruisers, the beast would either be vulnerable or dead.

He honestly hoped it was the second option. Then, he could return to business.

"Emperor.", spoke Hardscape. "Our Yamato Cannon is ready to fire. Other ships report having enough energy for a shot."

Mengsk smiled in defiance.

"It's about time.", he said. "Have the cruisers ready their cannons to fire."

* * *

_On the Wrath..._

During it's turn on the Second Battle of Char, the Battlecruiser _Wrath_ had seen it's fair amount of conflict, particularly the stress of having to fight the air strains of Zerg while supporting direct hits from the Zerg anti-space 'batteries' from the planet's surface, coming from huge Spore Cannons that could spit their acid spores with enough velocity to travel through Char's atmosphere and let the lack of gravity from high orbit and deep space do the rest.

But, no matter if there were ground aggressions as well, this was entirely different. Not because there was only aerial Zerg and only one large beast against the entire Dominion fleet, but because of the attack itself. Lilith Daniels remained on the bridge, thinking as she beheld the giant monster, as chaos erupted around her, with all the fire and fury outside and the motion inside the bridge. Most of the decisions so far had been made by her aide, Feud Thorne, whom simply looked at her just standing there. This, he thought, frightened him more than the Zerg. Because her rationalization was generally right. She simply looked at the creature and how it was attacking, how it was destroying the Battlecruisers slowly unlike when it breached the blockade.

Something was up. _She could feel it._ A strategy that required so much stalling. This was the only explanation, otherwise the Dominion fleet would be done for. Otherwise, why the tentacles and bile spit by the Zerg monster were behaving erratically, and _on purpose_, wanting to minimize the damage dealt?

"Captain.", started Thorne as he came closer, interrupting her thought. "Yamato battery fully charged. We're ready to fire."

"Report to Emperor Mengsk, ready the dispersion canal.", she answered. "Something's up, and I don't like it."

"With all due respect, ma'am, what are you talking about?", asked Thorne.

"That beast, Thorne.", answered Lilith. "It took out our Battlecruisers in the blockade in less than five minutes, but now here it is taking pot shots at us. Unless I'm stupid, I'd say they're stalling. But what for?"

"Captain!", shouted the communications officer nearby. "New order set incoming from _White Star._ Prepare Yamato Cannon, fire on command."

"Report to _White Star_ that preparation is in progress!", ordered Lilith, as a soft, humming voice started to sound across the bridge and the whole ship. "We better put an end to any clowning the Zerg are planning before they actually do it."

* * *

Outside, on the open air, while the fighters of the Dominion military kept fighting the smaller Zerg aerial strains, the Battlecruisers suddenly stopped firing. The gun batteries of the massive capital ships were not spilling their ammunition towards the beast or the Zerg flyers anymore, nor their Drakken Energy Cannons shot their particle beams of pure destruction. Instead, in every cruiser, even the _Wrath_ and the _White Star_, yellow-orange electric arcs started sparking across the lengthy corridor in the middle of the vessel, that lead to the hammerhead tip in the front. The blue energy lights in the hammerhead section started glowing orange, particularly the upper circle, that formed a full light sphere, as electric arcs started sparking as well.

Out of nowhere, orange and red energy particles started surging, all converging directly to the front part of the cruiser as the top, larger circle started spinning at a violent speed. This was the beginning of an Yamato Cannon fire, that utilized an intensive man-made magnetic field to focus a small nuclear explosion into a cohesive, pure energy blast, that could instantly vaporize smaller enemies and severely damage the armor or carapace of larger ones. The particles merged together into a singular energy mass that seemed to be gradually growing over time.

Izsha had seen it and knew it was time. They were doing it, and this was the Leviathan's cue to leave.

"_Now, Abathur!_", Izsha's voice commanded. "Turn the beast halfway around, full one-eighty, turn left! It's time we depart. _And it's time we got Kerrigan..._"

The gravity shifted as Izsha could feel the beast starting to slowly turn around to the left. The tentacles from the Leviathan recoiled and the bile spitters stopped firing their smoking sick-green bile, yet the Mutalisks, Scourges and Corruptors remained on the air, fighting the Dominion air force.

* * *

Emperor Mengsk had been beholding the Leviathan with a small smirk when the Yamato Cannon was charging and preparing to fire. It was finally going to end. However, it disappeared the moment the beast had been turning around. Turning around to leave the battle.

Something was wrong. It didn't even seem the beast was injured at all. Now, at the edge of it's defeat before man's second mightiest weapon in the 26th century, it was going to _flee_. And Mengsk couldn't just know it was because of fear, he refused to believe in this motive: The Zerg were beasts whom never known fear. Not once. And it was highly unlikely this was starting _now._

"_What the hell!?_", spoke Mengsk, upset, staring at the scene. Hardscape came from behind and beheld the scene as well.

"I don't believe it!", commented Hardscape, increasingly upset as well as he widened his eyes. "It's about to be hit hard and it's TURNING AROUND!?"

Mengsk himself couldn't believe either.

"FIRE THE YAMATO CANNON!", roared Mengsk. "SIGNAL ALL SHIPS, IGNORE FIRING SIGNAL, **FIRE THE DAMN CANNONS NOW!**"

A loud, wet energy expulsion sound was heard across the entire ship as a fierce crimson red energy fireball raced outside the hammerhead shape of the _White Star_ and towards the giant Zerg creature. So did other energy fireballs, other Yamato blasts, coming from other Battlecruisers. Some of the Yamato blasts, as they raced head-on to their common target, happened to hit some Dominion aircraft or Zerg flyers on their path, being instantly disintegrated in a crimson mist of death. The Yamato blasts surged out randomly, unlike when it was planned, when all should have come out in the same time.

Due to the unprecedented speed of the Zerg Leviathan, some of the Yamato blasts had missed their target, particularly the neck and head of the beast, being smaller than the rest of the body. Some others had either hit the small tendrils or the tentacles, doing nothing but burning through their already exposed flesh, making the beast roar a bit in pain.

The remainder of the Yamato blasts had hit directly the giant beast, in huge explosive dispersions that ripped large chunks of dark-brown carapace, from the size of popular cars to modern-day airplanes, making the beast scream in agony as it briefly waved it's head. The flesh beneath, when it had not crisped to the extreme heat of the blast, was cooking beneath whatever was left of the carapace. Some small flames could be seen along the extend of the belly and the right side of the creature if one would be looking closer.

"Direct hit!", shouted one of the weapons' officers behind Hardscape and Mengsk. "Effect on creature's carapace, exposed creature living flesh!"

"Now it's time we fought back!", spoke Mengsk, triumphant. "Get after the creature, no one stops until it's dead!"

"Helmsman, set a pursuit course!", ordered Hardscape, turning around. "Alert other ships, pursue and destroy the creature at any costs! Emphasize destroy at any costs, is that clear?"

"Affirmative, sir.", spoke the 'helmsman' officer. "Delivering orders now, pursuit course set."

* * *

The violent tremor shook the interiors of the hulking Zerg monster as it screamed the loudest, agonizing scream a creature could emit on that desert world. Spasms from the fleshy walls began to convulse as nerves were reacting to the violence the Yamato Cannons had delivered. Were not for the direction of the beast, it would have long fallen, but only if it were not stalling the Dominion fleet as it was. Also, there was the risk of one of the Yamato blasts hitting the head of the Leviathan, in which the sudden death of the creature and all Zerg aboard would definitely occur, as it does with most monsters of once and now.

Fortunately, Izsha knew that the right side of the beast was the least damaged by the guns and missile pods unleashed earlier. The dark eye had thus chosen this side to take the hit, hence the instructions to steer exclusively to the left. The brunt was enough to sustain the damage to a level, but now it was the time to stop fighting. And it was time for the eye's next move.

"The carapaces to the right have been destroyed!", spoke the voice of Abathur. "The beast's flesh is exposed, it will not tolerate further hit!"

"Release the remainder of the aerial strains!", ordered Izsha back. "Damage the engines of their cruisers and deal with any Dominion aircraft trying to leave the battle! Let's get this over with!"

Additional tremors shook the Leviathan, albeit smaller ones. The beast now growled and grinded it's teeth with pain. That is, if the beast had a human mouth to grind. Izsha could see rocket fire coming from behind each Battlecruiser. They were going to pursuit the creature and keep firing all they had until the Leviathan had fallen. Now this, Izsha wouldn't have.

On the belly of the beast, new, worm-like jaws opened, releasing more waves of Scourges, Mutalisks and Corruptors, all headed towards the Dominion fleet. Unlike the previous ones sent to merely distract and harass the fleet, these ones had preset directives in their simpleton minds. Areas to attack in the Terran Battlecruisers and potential threats to destroy. These ones would cut off any pursuers whom were after the Leviathan, or even cut off any aircraft who'd skip the battle and head straight to that hangar.

For Izsha, the game had unfolded, and now even the Dominion knew the intent of the Zerg there.

They would have Kerrigan.

One way or another.

* * *

The bridge of the _Wrath_, despite the small victory, had still been working non-stop. The beast was now running away, but this was the greatest problem. The Zerg never ran away from a battle, particularly before the Dominion would fire the Yamato Cannon. This instead would only make them fight harder.

It was as Lilith had suspected. The attack was nothing more than a ruse. No doubt it had something to do with the Queen of Blades. The fact that it was attacking randomly, delaying the destruction of ships, was the proof she needed. Now, here the beast was, running away from the Dominion fleet. And, where the beast was headed, no doubt that's where Kerrigan would be, doubtlessly awaiting pickup.

However, her eye now caught another sight. Several small creatures started to come out again of the giant beast. A second wave.

"Captain, thermo scans are picking up multiples coming again from the beast's position.", spoke one of the radar officers in the back. "Must be a second attack wave. Reading Mutalisk strain, Corruptor strain, multiple Scourge clusters."

"They are trying to stall us again, mister Yeats, just like they did with this attack.", spoke Lilith. "They think we're gonna stop to fight those. I won't fall for that again. Alert attack wings on hostiles, but keep course."

Suddenly, the ship started shaking violently, as a small force of Mutalisks furiously strafed through the very front of the Battlecruiser, firing their Glaive Wurms violently. Several of them had hit the 'corridor' section leading to the hammerhead frontal part, and an explosion could be seen in one of the decks in that section. The shake almost caught Lilith this time, but it did not stop, as the attacks were now starting to strike the upper sections of the _Wrath._

"Confirming aggression, confirming aggression!", spoke Kau. "Hull integrity eighty-percent and falling!"

Another wing of Mutalisks had strafed through the ship, also firing their fierce 'weaponry', hitting near, if not exactly, the same positions of the first aggression.

"Fire on Decks 15 to 24!", spoke Kau.

"Evacuate and seal those sessions!", spoke Thorne. "Captain, they're hitting us hard this time, we must slow down and fight back!"

"Negative, negative!", shouted Lilith. "They're doing this to get away, we can't fall for that, no matter what!", she added as she turned to the white male person working the navigational systems. "Mister Earle, no matter what the hell happens to the ship, don't stop, repeat, don't stop and, especially, _don't slow for anything, understood!?_"

**BOOM!**

The sudden, loud explosion let out a violent tremor in itself that shook the ship harder, making most people on the bridge fall, including Lilith and Thorne. Then, a loud klaxon boomed.

"Damage report!", ordered Thorne.

"Damage to primary engine four, catastrophic, other engines under attack!", spoke Kau. "Altitude keep will not sustain if more engines fall!"

Lilith widened her eyes as she came up on her feet. Now the Zerg had another plan.

"Get every fighter and battle station in here NOW!", shouted Lilith. "Defend the Battlecruiser at all costs!"

"Captain!", shouted Thorne. "The _Blackbriar_! It's coming down!"

Lilith shifted her attention to the Star Map table as she saw the video of one of the Battlecruisers, in the middle of the fleet, starting to fall slowly towards lower levels, one of it's massive wing pieces as well as the entire engine part smoking, along with some decks in the corridor section in the front. An explosion erupted from that part as well, but on the other side, as the ship started to fall to it's ultimate demise.

Suddenly, a loud latching sound was heard on the bridge as a collection of small, squishy beast sounds were heard.

"**SCOURGE!**", shouted Lilith. "**GET DOWN!**"

Outside, without Lilith seeing and fast enough to evade the muzzle fire of those Battlecruiser turrets, additional Scourges had flew across the vessel, a few of them latching particularly on the engine section, opening their wings and literally biting the hull of the ship, akin to grappling claws, without ropes or cables for people to hold. As they latched through those plates, those Scourges started spasming and shaking like rattlesnakes, as a green glow emerged and gradually grew from inside them, until reaching breaking point by filling up like balloons. On reaching those breaking points, they exploded violently, the chemicals inside forming a strong incendiary explosion that focused down, towards the hull, opening gaping holes where the Scourges used to be. The explosions shook the interiors of the war vessel, but those that occurred on the engine section had delivered larger explosions as the rocket engines let out wild fire and smoke. Additional Scourges started flying around, picking up their intended target, that was the ship engine or, if that was not possible, other sections, decks or even the gun batteries and the Drakken Cannons themselves.

It was in their nature. It was as they were 'programmed' to do. They were set to stop the Dominion fleet ships by any means.

If they couldn't force a ship to stop, then that ship would be brought down. Just like it happened to the _Blackbriar._

Just like it happened to the _Wrath._

* * *

"Red Zero-Six, Red Zero-Three, multiples on my six, evading!", Henderson heard his comrade in arms shout through the radio. "Can't shake them!"

"Red Zero-Three, launch flares, try to distract them!", Henderson answered when his cockpit thermal radar picked signals closing behind him. "Dammit, have bandits on my six as well, performing evasive!"

Henderson steered and banked his Viking right, as he beheld the chaotic scene before his Viking cockpit window, this time more _violent_ than the previous one. The second wave that had come from the giant Zerg beast started to attack more aggressively, with the intent of destroying the Dominion ships this time. That pursuit situation was the fifth one since the second wave of Zerg flyers entered the fray. He was forced to maneuver time and again between Battlecruisers to cut his pursuers. Missile ammunition was running low and gun ammunition wasn't helping either, now that the Zerg were maneuvering furiously this time.

Something was not right. Even though he wasn't an expert at Zerg behavior, Henderson knew the Zerg simply wouldn't just act passively then react furiously from one moment to another. The battle with the first wave was even easier. It was like something was in control of those Zerg, some strategy was playing at the battle. The evidence was the hulking Zerg creature that was fighting the Battlecruiser fleet minutes ago, but now here it was, turning around and fleeing the scene. The tentacles were no longer moving and the creature itself wasn't spitting anymore acid, or bile, or whatever, Henderson couldn't know the difference between one and another.

"Red Zero-Six, Red Zero-Three, flares ineffective, ineffective!", Red Zero-Three shouted on the radio. "Bandits on pursuit, can't shake, need help in here!"

"Red Zero-Three, have hot tails too, I can't help!", Henderson shouted.

"Red Zero-Six, I'm hit! I'M HIT!", Red Zero-Three screamed.

"RED ZERO-THREE, EJECT! **EJECT!**", screamed Henderson back.

"**RED ZERO-SIX, CAN'T EJECT, SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY EJECTOR! OH, MY-**", shouted Red Zero-Three back at the same time, but his transmission was then interrupted by a loud radio hiss. Henderson widened his eyes as he kept on piloting.

"Red Zero-Three, return radio, come back! COME BACK!", spoke Henderson, taking some time before he realized the worst.

"AirCom, Red Zero-Six, confirm casualty, Red Zero-Three is down, repeat Red Zero-Three is down.", he finalized. But then the Viking suffered a tremor as a warning sound started booming across the tight plane.

"Red Zero-Six asking for help!", shouted Henderson. "Bandits still on pursuit, can't shake, repeat, can't shake! Attempting maneuvers!"

* * *

Once, it was chaos. Now, it was violence manifest.

"Sir, those Scourges are clamping down by the minute on the cruisers!", shouted Hardscape, amidst the tremor on the White Star as Mengsk himself was struggling to remain on his feet. "We just lost _Blackbriar_, _Treadstone_,_ Wrath_ and _Ayers_! We must slow down!"

"Negative, damn you!", roared Mengsk. "I'm not letting Kerrigan slip away this time! If we get her, the Dominion will surely be safe!"

"For the love of God, Emperor, if we keep on this pursuit there won't be a Dominion soon!", shouted Hardscape back. "We'll lose the fleet that could protect it! I beg you, sir, _we must slow down_, for all our sakes!"

"And lose this battle, Hardscape!?", roared Mengsk. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?"

"**WE ALREADY LOST THE BATTLE, SIR!**", roared Hardscape back.

**BOOM!**

The explosion violently shook the entire bridge of the White Star, making Hardscape, Mengsk and anyone on their feet fall to the ground. A loud alarm started sounding across the White Star's bridge and the ship.

"Damage report!", spoke Hardscape, getting up on his feet.

"Damage on primary engines two and three!", spoke one of the bridge's officers. "Secondary engine two is on fire!"

"Begin damage control!", ordered Hardscape, heading hastily to the Star Map table. "Reduce speed to half-impulse!"

"UNACCEPTABLE!", roared Mengsk, getting on his feet. "MAINTAIN-"

**BOOM!**

The bridge had shaken violently again, making Hardscape tumble on the Map table as Mengsk fell to the ground, but this time hitting the communicator terminal standing between the viewing window and the Star Map table.

Hardscape barely recovered himself from the impact.

"Fire on primary engine one!", spoke one of the officers. "Sustaining heavy damage, hull integrity failing!"

Hardscape's eyes tried to look up to the officer when they spotted a figure lying down on the floor. A figure wearing a red-brown long jacket, with a long, grizzly hair.

"MEDIC TO THE BRIDGE!", shouted Hardscape as he approached the unconscious body of Emperor Mengsk. He turned the body around and saw the unconscious face of the Emperor, leaning closer with his left ear close to his mouth. "He's still breathing!", Hardscape added, as he then turned to the bridge. "Stop all thrusters, order the fleet to halt! Recall all fighters! **NOW!**"

Hardscape went on his feet and walked towards the viewing window, as the engines ceased their humming and he felt the ship stop.

He looked with an angry face to the window, where he could see the back of the creature that just defeated them. Although the Zerg were still attacking, however, they stopped inflicting serious damage over time, as the beast flew away into the horizon. Packs of Zerg flyers seemed to be retreating away as well, as if they were ordered to stop the Dominion Fleet by any means. And they were stopped.

But one thing, Hardscape promised.

_'There will be a second round. Oh, yes, there WILL be a second round!'_

* * *

_On the hangar..._

Ever since her entrance into the Program, Kerrigan was taught that to be a Ghost was to practice the craft and art of death 'till the end of her life. Melee combat, marksmanship, psionic usage... They were all but tools to the artists the Ghosts were. Some, curiously, in the Program, had their style and even a _fetish_ for killing, but many others, like Kerrigan, just worked the basic style: Kill and be done with. She never wanted to have anything to do with death.

Even so, for a well trained assassin by the predecessor of the Dominion, those soldiers taking cover behind those crates knew what they were doing. Either they were veterans or the latest years fighting the two greatest threats known to Man had hardened them up. Curious as it may seemed, a clear sight of the target was required for the powers to work, even if it's a glimpse of that red-clad armor. Two Umojan Marines had already fallen because of a Marine whom Kerrigan had to quickly dispatch. The third was in a closer stack of crates, firing against the soldiers whom were storming the hangar. The last one stood in Kerrigan's side, firing his C-14 as he ducked behind the crates.

Ammunition was already running low for Kerrigan. And, with the manner how those people were advancing on the hangar, it wouldn't be long before more trouble came in, and this time it'd be one not even she, the most powerful psychic in the Koprulu Sector, could handle. She stood there, ducked behind those crates, wondering what the hell is taking Raynor so long to reconfigure that Dropship. The transport that'd put them out of that dustball and into hiding, away from Mengsk's ever closing finger claws.

Suddenly, her head, especially her powers, had caught someone else thinking, from the other side, where the Dominion Marines were, taking cover.

'_Dammit, the fighters should've been here by now! Backup should've been here now! What the hell is taking so long!?_'

Curiously, that same thought came into Kerrigan's mind. It was indeed interesting why, if the Dominion knew of the secret hangar, they still did not send fighters to destroy the transports or troops to secure the area. Even now that the former Queen of Blades was there, laid bare and exposed for her enemies to take. Something was going on.

Suddenly, a loud window breaking noise was heard near Kerrigan's position. She came up to take a peek at where it came from when she spotted that Umojan Marine, on the ground, with the visor glass broken. Another unnecessary casualty.

"Shit, Peddy bought it too!", spoke the last Umojan Marine, close to Kerrigan. "What do we do now?"

"I _could_ do something if I had a cloaking device, that's the problem!", Kerrigan said, nervous, when a metal clunking noise came from the far end of the hangar, that led to the emergency tram. "Oh, great!", she added, ironically.

From the automated doors that slided aside, a new force of Dominion troops had come outside of it, starting to fire towards the last stand between those assaulting forces and the Dropship. Six more Marines and three Ghosts took cover behind the crates on their side and started firing. Kerrigan and the lone Umojan trooper ducked and stood down.

"_Keep down, keep down!_", shouted Kerrigan, already desperate and breathing fast. This was it. Her final moments. Her and Raynor's. They would fall there, on that planet. But not together. She would fall first, then it'd be her loved one.

'_Alright, then!_', Kerrigan thought, sliding the loading mechanism on her C-20A, preparing the remaining munition of her rifle to fire. '_If I'm gonna die, well, so bad, but one thing I'm sure is I'm not giving the satisfaction of being Mengsk's plaything!_'

She simply looked at the trooper before her. She couldn't see his face through that thick visor, but she knew he was looking at her. She could feel it.

"Nice knowing you.", spoke Kerrigan.

"Bad it's been brief, lady.", spoke the Umojan Marine, preparing his rifle to fire. The grip of both on their weapons of choice had closed tight. It was time for the last stand. May the invaders not be disappointed. They got up on the crates and began to fire.

However, something happened. Something that couldn't be explained by ordinary men. A miracle.

A miracle in the form of a smoking, green colored fireball descended upon a cluster of crates and exploded on it. Boxes flew into the air as the explosion faded to reveal three Dominion Marines lying on the ground and not coming up. Kerrigan and the Umojan trooper stopped firing, not knowing what just happened.

"_What the hell was that!?_", Kerrigan heard one of the Dominion Marines scream from afar. That's what she was wondering.

That was before a loud, screeching feral noise boomed across the hangar, as a dark figure quickly strafed from outside the hangar. A figure that was slim as a giant worm, but one that had enormous dragon-like wings.

Kerrigan looked at the figure and her face distorted, eyes widening in an expression of fear. The face intensified to one of pure horror as four more figures of the same format as the first one appeared and started flying around the stretching pad.

Mutalisks. They were a glimpse of Kerrigan's hell for over those four years.

She didn't want to face them, not now, at that time, at least. But now there they were. And she could know why they were there.

_Her worse nightmares had come for her._

"**ZERG!**", screamed one of the Dominion Marines, starting to fire upwards, attempting to hit the fast-flying airbone Mutalisks. The Zerg flyers maneuvered and flew in circles with an abnormal speed, but then some of those started bombarding the hangar towards the Dominion forces. The Dominion troopers started moving across the hangar, trying to find useful cover, but the vicious aggression by the Mutalisk Glaive Wurms would not allow that. One of those Glaive Wurms hit the ground but bounced instead towards an unlucky Dominion Marine, not only impaling the trooper, but flying it towards the farthest wall, where it remained sticked like paper in staple.

"The last thing I wanted!", shouted Kerrigan, angry. "_How the hell did they get here!?_"

"I don't know!", shouted the Umojan trooper. "You're the Queen of those things, _you tell me!_"

"Keep giving it to them!", ordered Kerrigan. "They're gonna kill the Dropship with Jim if we don't do something!"

Kerrigan and the Umojan Marine pointed their rifles and started firing upwards as well, trying to hit those Mutalisks.

* * *

As impossible as it sounded, the plan had worked, step by step. At first, Izsha thought there'd be something unexpected, something out of place, either in form of an unexpected intervention or a flaw in the plan, that would ultimately disrupt the course. Still, it worked. Step by step.

The blockade had been broken, the surprise factor and the strength of the tentacles contributed to that. The surprise was what counted the most. The Dominion could have been fast to activate their precious Defensive Matrix shielding that allowed them to survive fights against the Zerg for long.

Still, even so, they had not broken formation to chase the Leviathan until Mengsk ordered so. Obviously, the idiot was more concerned with those pirates on the _Hyperion_ than the possibility the Zerg would come for them. Something that, in the most normal of situations, would not happen. The others would not come for her. Izsha would not come too, but the situation forced that Kerrigan would be pivotal to the plans ahead.

Plans that Izsha would not allow neither the largest government in the Sector nor a band of pirates to interfere. A simple attack pattern, a Terran attack pattern, ensured that. Skip fast from the ever vigilant gun batteries and then strike the engines before the Defensive Matrix would activate. So sudden, no one could react fast. And now the _Hyperion_ was useless, so was the Battlecruiser of the pretty blondie, the bastard son of the Emperor. With all the dark eye had seen recently, it's _unbelievable_ that the boy was the son of that manipulator, the two seemed so... apart.

Apart too was the Dominion '_fleet_' itself. A very small number to defend a said 'empire', in Izsha's opinion. Sixty, seventy ships with a laughable weaponry. One that Izsha literally crackled in pity and shame for those nimble people. It required their greatest weapon, the Yamato Cannon, to deliver some degree of damage to the beast. But then, the dark eye never wanted to destroy them, especially the Emperor. He must be raging mad by now, roaring in pure fury at how a single, *little* thing had ruined his plans of attack.

Despite, also... The arrival of the Dominion had changed the plans of Izsha as well. The dark eye didn't account for the Dominion to bring the fleet to that planet, and this completely changed the game. Izsha planned to actually storm that research facility and occupy it completely, hoping to capture Kerrigan unharmed. There was even the possibility of making _hostages_ to add to the spice of the drama. But then, well, the events turned and forced Izsha to make up a new plan. This new plan worked too, as would the other one.

There were of course, casualties in battle, it is quite usual in the actual days, but those were of persistent morons that would just keep on going after the Leviathan after it retreated. It takes a while to make humans malleable once one learns how to deal with things, but they stopped and recognized their defeat.

Now, all there was left was the final part. The grand finale. The time to take the trophy of the act.

_Sarah Kerrigan._ A name that was once one synonymous with genocide, death and pure, abject bloodlust. One born to take lives, to slaughter millions, billions of beings. Now, it was a pathetic creature whose appearance would make it sound she was now _unworthy_ of her power. Still, she would have her use. Izsha was going to see to that.

The dark eye connected with the Overlord keeping watch over the secret Umojan landing pad and it's hangar, whom were now exposed to the gaze of the Swarm. The eye could see those Mutalisks flying around, securing that hangar and attacking anyone whom was a threat. Izsha have had a special treat for those particular Mutalisks, a gift of Abathur: They could recognize Kerrigan and her 'lover'. Izsha made it strict clear that neither one of them were to be harmed. Kerrigan was vital, but Izsha wanted to have some 'fun' with Raynor. And even more fun with Kerrigan _watching it all, stranded and hopeless._

However, the eye also caught that same Kerrigan firing at the Mutalisks.

"Our Mutalisks are under attack.", spoke the voice of Abathur. "The one you proclaim to be the Queen of Blades is directly firing against our minions."

Izsha chuckled in response.

"Obviously.", Izsha said. "She just left the Swarm, she's afraid, she hates the monsters she would declare we are. I, for one, never believed she would actually join us _willfully_. No, I'm more concerned with our other guests in the landing pad."

"What of the Terran Raynor?", Abathur spoke. "Doubtless he will struggle to protect her from us. What shall we do with him?"

"What most good people do to their dogs, Abathur.", Izsha spoke, uncomfortably gleefully. "_We put a leash on them._"

The dark eye had been witnessing the particular Umojan Dropship for some time, and how Kerrigan was struggling to defend it. Doubtless, it'd be her way out of the planet.

"But, actually...", Izsha started, contemplative. "That Dropship also serves well the plan. It may even allow me to test our new toy..."

"I must protest, Izsha!", censored Abathur. "There are still strands to be examined and verified, it is not still ready for deployment!"

"Abathur...", Izsha replied. "Sometimes you oughta run instead of walking. Hmmm, remember hearing that somewhere... Retreat the Mutalisks and the Overlord, let the Dropship depart."

"The capabilities of the Terran transport are unknown.", Abathur said. "I do not recommend this course of action. Being an Umojan transport, it may hoard systems that you have not planned for."

"_It's a simple Dropship, Abathur._", started Izsha, trying to reassure it's partner. "And even if she cloak, or warp, or activate an afterburner or transform into some weird flying mechanoid hybrid, there are other opportunities. Let's just see what it can do before we make our move. _Now, please, the Mutalisks and the Overlord._"

* * *

The battle had taken a new stage in the landing pad. An entirely, new radical level, one that Kerrigan didn't expect. Where a bad battle had now gone messy. Too messy for her taste.

She still wondered where from and how did the Zerg found her on that planet. Even so, the answer from her newfound partner, that Umojan trooper helping her out, brought up an old point. Kerrigan was indeed the most strong of psionics, and this was seen even during her time on the Sons of Korhal. Even before the knowledge of the Confederate Psi Emmiter was known to the public eye, the Zerg seemed to follow her, _no matter where she went._ Still, it was in a matter of weeks, this time it only took _three_ days for them to arrive to this place. Was there something left? Something that, whatever that thing Raynor used on Char did, wasn't removed? Some... connection to the Zerg that was remaining?

The Dominion soldiers were fighting a losing battle from their side of the hangar, one they weren't ready for. They still kept on moving around, hoping they weren't hit directly or by the blast of those Glaive Wurms. Still, it was pretty hard to move and fire at the same time, while having a large, worm-like dragon firing green fireballs at you. Kerrigan didn't even mind why the Zerg weren't even firing at her or her fighting partner. She did not have to discover the reason, that the Zerg wanted her alive. So they'd do it all again to her.

Kerrigan's eye pupils turned to her fierce golden yellow as she extended her open right hand to one of the approaching Mutalisks, making the beast stop flying, even though it was debating itself, screaming feral roar as it tried to free the invisible Psionic Grip.

"Quick, shoot the bastard!", shouted Kerrigan. The Umojan Trooper followed suit, unloading it's ammunition on the Zerg beast. The Mutalisk screamed in pain as the volley of C-14 spikes pierced through it's body, letting out holes in the flesh that started leaking red blood. Kerrigan then clenched her right hand, forming a fist as she quickly and violently brought it down, having the Mutalisk slam into the ground. The beast no longer moved after that demonstration of power.

Kerrigan and the Umojan resumed their shooting to the remaining four Mutalisks, when something occurred. Something that made them call their attention, as they spun around and all turned to the right side of the Umojan Dropship, all leaving towards that direction.

"_What the hell?_", spoke Kerrigan. "Where are they..."

Kerrigan's words ceased to emit a sound when she then looked into the horizon, into the dark sillhouette in the sky. A giant, monster like shadow that exhibited weak, but relevant purple glows from afar. Kerrigan's face became one of awe, her jaw gradually dropped as she estimated it was the size, if not larger, of a Battlecruiser. The Umojan Trooper ceased his firing to look at the scene as well.

"What the hell is that-", asked the Umojan Trooper, before, suddenly, bullet holes erupted from him, making him finally fall dead into the landing pad doors.

"_Have her in lock, have her in lock!_", shouted a gruff, male radio voice from behind.

Kerrigan quickly spun around, having her rifle ready, before she saw the remaining Dominion soldiers, three Marines and a single Ghost, all pointing their weapons at her.

"Weapon on the ground, **NOW!**", shouted one of the Dominion Marines, the same voice she just heard.

"You're coming with us, Kerrigan!", spoke another male voice, this time a flanged one, coming from the Ghost's masked respirator. "Don't try anything funny or we'll-"

Suddenly, rifle firing was heard from behind, hitting one of the Dominion troopers. The remainder tried to turn around quickly to fire, but those were rapidly gunned down as well.

Gunned down by Jim Raynor, in his ever-vigilant black armor, whom now stood at the ramp of the Dropship.

"Get aboard the Dropship, Sarah!", spoke Raynor, seeming strangely alarmed. Kerrigan, however, didn't mind. He must have seen what she saw. She breathed in relief as she walked towards him.

"_About time!_", exclaimed Kerrigan in relief. "We better get out before the Zerg-"

"It's not that, I need you on the cockpit to help out, there's something wrong with the controls!", Raynor suddenly interrupted.

Kerrigan's eyes widened in upsetting shock.

"What!?", Kerrigan asked, upset. "_Didn't you say you knew how to reconfigure!?_"

"I don't know, darling, must be the Umojan design or something, all I know is I can't access!", Raynor readily explained. Kerrigan simply looked at him, nervous, before a roar from afar, doubtless from the giant Zerg beast, had reached their ears. "Dammit, woman, _I'm needing help too!_", he added, nervous.

"Just what I needed...", Kerrigan muttered, frustrated, walking inside the cargo hold of the Dropship. "Hold on, be right back!"

The cargo hold was a pretty hollow one, but one that, while it'd normally be empty for vehicles like Hellions and smaller vehicles, it had simple seats, meant for Terran Marines to sit down. Fluorescent lamps illuminated the corridor-like passenger hold that Kerrigan walked across, towards the access elevator that would take her to the pilot's cabin. She pressed the small button on the console as the small lift went up, taking it's passenger to the upper level.

The pilot cabin was a bit darker, compared to the cargo hold below, with only the lights illuminating the cockpit panels and the chair, which could spin, but also could slide forward, to the ship panels, although it'd lock the spinning of chair in doing so. The cockpit was riddled with buttons and switches of all sizes, as well as separate monitor screens that allowed the pilot to access navigational, radar, communications and ship status systems. It also had a side bed to the right, fit for a single person to sleep while not on duty or during long flights on auto-pilot.

"What the hell could be wrong with the system!?", Kerrigan said, nervous, as she walked towards the chair, already stressed to the tension of either incoming more Dominion troops or the Zerg whom entered the fray. She put her canister rifle on the bed and sat on the pilot seat, sliding it forward as the controls automatically activated and the monitors came to life, showing their systems in a cyan-blue lightning. She had looked through the monitors, all of which seemed to be operating normally, and then she pressed two buttons on the panel and flipped three switches, finally turning the onboard key piece, starting up the vessel. Kerrigan found it strange, what her boyfriend said. Practically, there was nothing wrong with the Dropship's systems, it was even a standard one, like many others used by other factions across the sector. What was wrong with it, as he dared told?

"Jim, it's Sarah.", Kerrigan said, putting her hand on her earpiece. "I'm here in the cockpit. I don't understand what you're talking about, there's nothing wrong-"

"Command accepted.", spoke a monotone, robotic female voice, coming from the terminals or the cockpit panel. "Voice tone recognized. Departing now."

"_What!?_", Kerrigan said, surprised, as the navigational monitor started flashing red, displaying warnings that landing gear was still down and the cargo bay was open. It was going to leave.

Worse. It was going to leave without Raynor.

Kerrigan started flipping the switches, turning the key and pressing the buttons, but to no avail. The system had not shut down, nor changed it's command or operational status.

"Cancel command, cancel the command now!", exclaimed Kerrigan, already nervous.

"Not authorized. Access denied. Commands locked.", spoke the female computer.

Kerrigan's eyes widened. The ship was wired. It wouldn't do anything at all.

"_Shit!_", spoke Kerrigan out loud, sounding desperate as she slid the chair back and stormed away to the lift, pressing the button in a hurry and hoping the lift would go faster when it didn't. She didn't wait for the lift to complete it's descent, sliding down and falling when the body could fit through, starting to desperately run towards the cargo bay doors, that were on the verge of closing and pressurizing the ship. She could barely recover from the fall, trying to run anyway possible.

Unfortunately, as she reached the doors, they had already closed. Kerrigan increasingly got more and more desperate by the minute.

"No, no, no, no, NO!", Kerrigan repeated, as she tried to uselessly force them off with her bare hands.

Then she immediately remembered. Her powers. She could still do something. Her eye pupils turned yellow orange as she prepared both hands and then pushed them forward, to the door.

But it did nothing. Kerrigan didn't understand, her powers never left her hanging, especially now that things were going messy. She tried again, to little avail. It didn't do... diddly. Then, an increasing humming sound started, as did the ignition of rocket fuel, burning against the surface.

"NO! **NO!**", Kerrigan repeated, anguished. It must have been some disruption dampening field, something meant for psionics like her. Something to block her powers. She put her hand on her earpiece, trying to contact Raynor, as she raced to the elevator lift and pressed the button, starting to head to the pilot cabin level.

"Jim!", shouted Kerrigan, breathing fast in desperation, as she walked to the pilot cabin when the lift finished it's course. "Jim, there's something wrong with the Dropship, it's lifting off and leaving, and it's not responding! I can't come back to pick you, the controls locked out to me, and I can't use-"

"I know, darling!", Raynor said, strangely not alarmed. "I did it on purpose!"

Kerrigan stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened bloodshot.

"**WHAT!?**", she shouted.

"I _had_ to do it, Sarah!", Raynor said, in a tense tone. "Someone has to hold off the Dominion boys!"

"What the f-", Kerrigan shouted, upset, refusing to believe what she was hearing. She also could feel movement through out the ship. The transport was lifting off. She sat in the pilot chair and slid it forward. "James Eugene Raynor, _what the hell are you doing_!? Now's not the time to play knight in shining armor!"

"I lost you once, Sarah!", Raynor answered. "I'm not letting that happen to you again!"

"_By getting yourself killed!?_", Kerrigan asked, furious, as the ship turned around to leave. She tried pressing buttons and flipping switches, to little avail. "And you call me nuts!? Get the controls back to me **RIGHT NOW!** I'm coming to pick you!"

"There's no time, Sarah!", Raynor shouted. "And not this time! It's my turn, now!"

"Don't be stupid, Jim, this isn't New Gettysburg!", Kerrigan screamed, desperate. "The Dominion is here, so are the Zerg and either will kill you on the spot! Give me the controls, now!"

"I told you, not-", Raynor started, angry, before a loud explosion was heard on the earpiece. "_Shit, they're in!_"

Kerrigan started hearing gunfire on the earpiece. Heavy gunfire, sounds of C-14 firing.

"Jim!?", Kerrigan shouted. "JIM!?"

"**COME ON, BASTARDS! IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT!?**", Raynor's voice roared, continuing his fire.

The gunfire didn't stop erupting as the ship had already left the landing pad and started thrusting forward, up and high into the air. Kerrigan pressed her earpiece, to the point of breaking it, desperate and knowing her loved one was down there, fighting the enemy all alone.

But then another sound erupted. The sound of a pure scream of pain. From Raynor, as he kept on screaming and fell to the ground, when the scream started to fade away.

"**NOOOOO!**", Kerrigan screamed, in complete terror, pressing the buttons and flipping switches in complete desperation. "JIM!? ARE YOU THERE!? JIM!? ANSWER ME! JIM? **JIM!?**"

Kerrigan sounded increasingly anguished, her eyes desperate and bloodshot, still trying to get the cockpit console to work in utter despair. She could feel that anguish heavily crawling up her throat as her eyes started to let out water. The salty water of tears, present in extreme emotional situations.

"Jim...", Kerrigan started as she leaned on that cockpit and started to cry as the Dropship flew on, in full pain and agony at what just happened, refusing in futility to assimilate the event.

Jim Raynor.

He went after her in Char.

He saved her.

Now he died because of her.

He died sacrificing himself _needlessly_ for her.

* * *

_On the Hyperion..._

It was chaos incarnate aboard. People that couldn't find a ward in the Infirmary had no option but to be tended to in that very cold steel floor. The smell of burnt flesh was high in the air. Crewmembers of most types, be they technicians, fighter pilots, ship officials and even some scientists, all of them spread out as they waited their turns for physical or mental medical attention, or even both. Most of them had burnt ashes on their faces and clothing, but they varied. Some were in one piece, just waiting there for the usual check-up while others had some physical damage, either in burned flesh laceration, cut wounds or perfuration. Such were some of the hazards in serving in space during combat situation. Either the fire or something else caught up to you. There were no exceptions.

Across the medical bay, people in white walked around, doing their turns in tending to those wounded crewmembers of the valiant pirate warship. Some of them wore the usual white jacket and were performing examination by the minute. Others, however, most of them woman, wore a white battle armor akin to the ones utilized by Marines, but a very different design: The helmet piece was very thin and simplistic, that had a separate spinning visor that bore two rectangular LED light bulbs spread above. The armor torso was thinner than that used by the Marines, that bore no on-board light bulbs or exposed power cores, as, in the back, the exhaust turbines extruded farther than Marines and accompanied the thin format on the front. The lower parts, such as abdomen and legs and footwear, practically remained the same as those of Terran Marines, although the pelvic piece was more triangular than a square shape found in male suits. One thing was definitely different were the arms of those Medics in suits, and that was their left arm, that contained a wrist piece loaded with two syringes filled with an unknown green liquid. They had been applying those syringes on several of the crewmembers on the wards or the floor, meaning it was clearly a medicine or an anesthetic.

However, out the white, yellow, blue and grey clothed people walking around the room, one person wearing black clothing stood above the others. This figure was leaning down in a particular ward, watching over his fellow friend in an orange monkey suit, with a mechanical wrench replacing his left hand, whom was clearly unconscious and asleep. On the other side of the ward, stood a female figure in a medical suit, the CMC-405. Unlike the other medics wearing that type of suit, whom had their visors on, her face was exposed, revealing a soft woman's face on her early thirties, with blue eyes and brown hair, looking at both the man in the ward and the man in black suit, Matt Horner.

"Physically, sir, he's fine, even with all that happened, including that explosion.", spoke the Medic, Lily Preston. "I'm still to see if the blast shockwave did something with the internal organs, but he'll live. Quite impressive, I might add."

Still, despite the report, Horner did not change his mood. He was still worried about Swann, lied all down there, on that ward. And all because of those monsters. He still lied there, wondering, like everyone else how the hell did they _found_ them. And, especially, how did they _found_ Kerrigan this soon, so soon after their defeat on Char.

Even the people approaching him, a man in a yellow clad monkey suit and the African-american officer in blue, wondered too how the Zerg got into the game that was supposed to be purely Terran. And now, because of that unforeseen event, the Chief Engineer of the _Hyperion_ was on the ward, incapable of performing his duty and getting the ship and the crew out of that mess.

"We did everything...", started Horner. "_And yet we did nothing!_"

"Sir?", asked the man in the yellow monkey suit, Milo Kachinsky.

"You know what I meant, Kachinsky!", answered Horner, rashly. "Status?"

"Well, we could contain the fires, the engines weren't that much destroyed.", answered Kachinsky. "But they were surely banged up. Will take a while before they're back swinging."

"You're Swann's apprentice, Kachinsky, that means you're on point.", spoke Horner, turning around to face him and the officer, Marcus Cade. "Get me updates _by the minute_ on the engine repairs. The moment we can walk, _push the damn ship forward!_"

Horner than turned again, towards Preston.

"And, Preston, updates on Swann's health as they occur.", Horner said. "I'm not losing my miracle man, and the boss will surely won't like the news."

"Believe me, Captain, I'd say we've had more than our share of bad news today.", commented Preston.

"Captain.", spoke the officer, Marcus Cade, making Horner turn around. Cade was carrying a report file. "We just picked a read on radar, Phaeton far horizon. One single Dropship, flying in high airspace, but hasn't left orbit. IFF confirms it belongs to the Umojan Protectorate, personnel transport 51-C."

Horner's eyes widened.

"Must be Raynor and Kerrigan, _it has to be them!_", spoke Horner, starting to walk hastily to the access door in the infirmary and then running. "To the bridge, NOW!"

* * *

It seemed like hours. It would seem like _eternity_. But she didn't care with how long it's been.

Kerrigan had stopped her crying, but the pain wouldn't leave. Not at that moment, neither after. It would never leave her. She stood in there, with tears having ran across her face. _It happened again._ Another person Kerrigan cared for had died.

But what added further insult to the misery was the _manner_ that Jim Raynor had died. Raynor wasn't like that. He didn't _need_ to do that. He'd have called in Kerrigan aboard and, together, they would depart there and return to the _Hyperion._ But he said there was something wrong, something he said he needed help and thus remained behind to protect the ship while she went to check at the problem.

And the worse of it was that _she fell for it._ It must have had something to do with the episode on the tram, it HAD to be. Raynor wouldn't behave like that. A thought had grown on her mind. The Ghost she fought in the main security room. It had to be her, she messed with his mind _on purpose_! _Played with him like a puppet_!

Still, Kerrigan had expended all her strength to just get angry at that time. She used it all on her sorrow. She felt inside herself like she was _cursed._ Cursed to never have any happiness in life. To forever be an instrument of killing for someone or something. Time just went on like an eternity as the anguish of losing the only person whom really understood and cared for her would never leave her. It'd torment her mind 'till the end of her natural life. It must have been how he felt, after he couldn't rescue her before the Zerg got her on Tarsonis. At least he had the mercy of death, compared to her torture. But this little fact wouldn't change anything at all, nor deliver any comfort.

Suddenly, a small, beeping noise started echoing through the small cabin of the Dropship. The beeping noise repeated three times before it automatically opened the radio channel aboard.

"_Dropship 51-C, this is Hyperion, please respond._", spoke the voice of Matt Horner, on the radio. "_Dropship 51-C, this is Matt Horner, captain of the Battlecruiser Hyperion, please respond._", the voice repeated after a small pause of silence.

Feeling weak and helpless, Kerrigan sat on the chair and pressed the flashing yellow button, activating the communications channel on her side.

"_Hyperion_...", Kerrigan started, in a weak tone, gathering strength to even speak some few words. "This is Kerrigan."

"_Kerrigan?_", Horner asked. "_How'd you make it? Where's Jim?_"

The name itself was enough to make the anguish crawl up her throat again. She knew they'd ask for him. She just didn't want to give them this kind of news.

"He...", Kerrigan started, sniffing up her nose, another tear coming down her right eye. "He didn't make it... He just _left himself_ behind, like the damn hero he is."

A moment of silence went on the Dropship.

"_No..._", Horner said, despondent. "_I don't believe it! He'd never..._"

"_He did, Matt_!", Kerrigan suddenly exclaimed, anguished. "And... And he did it on purpose, I don't get it why, _he'd never do this_! I- I can't explain it right, he...", she tried to explain, but then suddenly losing words again.

"_Oh, this... That's..._", spoke Horner, not believing himself those news. "_Just... Just hold on, Sarah, I'm sending in a fighter wing to escort you back. Then you tell the story._"

Suddenly, an alarm boomed over the Dropship, getting Kerrigan's attention.

"Warning. Zerg organisms detected.", spoke the female, monotone computer voice.

"What the!?", spoke Kerrigan, getting alarmed, looking at the sensor monitor. The monitor had displayed four small thermal dots quickly approaching the single white dot at the center of the screen. "_No, not again!_"

A loud, feral roar was heard on the small vessel. It were them. Those four Mutalisks of the group of five that harassed them on the landing pad.

"_Kerrigan?_", Horner asked, starting to get nervous as well. "_Kerrigan, what's going on?_"

"Incoming Zerg Glaive Wurm.", spoke the computer, interrupting Horner's voice. "Launching countermeasures."

The Dropship then started moving by itself, performing defensive, evasive maneuvers as, outside, it released flare packs meant to distract the Zerg creatures. The four Mutalisks were not distract, but instead started strafing around, towards and after the Dropship, letting our their fearsome beastly screams.

"_Kerrigan, can you read me!?_", shouted Horner, alarmed. "_What's going on!?_"

"It's the Zerg, Matt, they're coming for me!", shouted Kerrigan, alarmed. "I need help, _I here help in here now!_"

"_Hold on, Kerrigan, I'm dispat-_", Horner spoke, responding before the Dropship suffered a violent shock and an explosion was head, where he was cut out. The radio frequency instantly turned to a loud hiss.

"Matt!?", Kerrigan asked, nervous. "**MATT!?**"

"Warning, communication systems damage. Unable to transmit.", spoke the computer voice.

"Manual control!", Kerrigan exclaimed. "Disable auto-pilot and activate manual control, **NOW!**"

"Not authorized. Access denied. Commands locked.", the computer said.

Suddenly, a violent explosion occurred, heavily shaking the Dropship and having it bend a bit to the right side. Kerrigan could barely recover from the blast.

"Failure in right engine.", the computer reported.

Then, shortly, another violent explosion happened, this time on the left side of the vessel. The violent shock made Kerrigan fall from the pilot seat, but she quickly, desperately tried to get on her feet and back into the chair.

"Failure in left engine, unable to navigate. Unable to sustain airlift.", the computer said, as the Dropship's interiors suddenly started shifting the gravity vertically. "Free falling."

The Dropship started then to fall gradually faster, with it's nose beginning to point down, making Kerrigan scream, when suddenly the gravity changed again, this time returning back upwards, into the air.

"Airlift stability returning.", spoke the computer. "Flight capability returning."

Kerrigan simply looked at the sudden return into mid-air, something she knew it wasn't natural.

"_What the..._", muttered Kerrigan. "What the hell is going on!?"

Then, the Dropship turned itself to the left, despite the fact it was shaking still a bit. It must have been a miracle, since both engines were down and the feral sounds of the Mutalisks suddenly disappeared. Still, Kerrigan knew better, deep inside her.

Her fears were confirmed once the Dropship finished it's turn, and Kerrigan saw what she didn't like.

The silhouette of that beast she saw on the landing pad.

"No...", Kerrigan muttered, as her face deformed to one of pure fear. She then realized the Dropship's trajectory just wouldn't change. The ship was headed, or worse, it was being dragged towards the beast. A beast that seemed to be growing larger the closer the Dropship approached.

Kerrigan's fear was starting to climb to the apex. It was going to happen again.

"No!", Kerrigan exclaimed in fear. "No! No! NO!** NOOOOOOOO!**"

And yet, her screams could do absolutely nothing. Especially, because, outside, two massive organs, akin to tongues, had been keeping hold over the Dropship. Tongues that belonged to two Zerg creatures of the same type, a body of a giant, dragon-like being with no visible eyes on it's head, that flew on a set of insectoid wings, like those of a dragonfly. That creature bore two massive 'arms' and a tail, both riddled with spikes and thorns.

They were a type which was never seen before.

And now, Sarah Kerrigan, the former Queen of Blades, had been the very first '_victim_' of the Zerg Vipers.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENT:**_

Phew! That was the longest chapter I've EVER wrote in my initial years of Fanfics! But at least I warned you folks it was going to be that big. I swear, unless there are exceptions, the other battle scenes will be shorter.

My explanation was that I was trying to cover an aerial battle (Yea, aerial because it was on the planet, although you folks wished it was in space) by all perspectives possible. Yeah, I know what you're gonna say, there are scenes that could have used a little more love, but I've been writing this for two weeks, I've had time to prepare other chapters prior to launching the story here, especially with the tight deadline I've got. That's a secret for people whom want to keep delivering stuff by a strict period, _have spare material! _It's not the overkill thing, it's for situations like these. But, well, given the size of this chapter, I might take a one-week break, or just take tomorrow before I start work on the next chapter.

Officially, this concludes the 'Umojan' arc of the story, and the next ones will bridge to begin the 'Char' arc. I just regret to say that, after the next chapter, this will be the last, for a while, you will hear of the Hyperion, or Dominion, or Umojan, as the next chapters will be Zerg-centric. Plus, it's about time you were introduced to the Zerg characters, hope you enjoyed the alterations and how you can expect them to be for the following track ahead!

Now, on to the chapter, especially concerning the ending. There WILL be people in here, I bullshit you not, who'll say the ending was the most corny and B-Movie like in the whole story, especially Ragnarok, whom contributed so much with his critics, but I at least warned him on the PM. Maybe I should have done the same to the rest of you, but I wanted your opinion of the heat of the moment. Oh, man, my Inbox will be filled with _so much criticism_ about this scene.

But, in defense of this particular ending, much later in the story, if I manage, you'll come to a rational explanation, with a plot-twist, one you'll understand (_At least I hope you do!_), and you'll have forgiven it over time, because, hell, it's for the sake of the plot, as you'll figure. At least it's better than the official story cutscene, where Kerrigan fell to Mengsk's broadcast like a sac of puppies _(You'll still see the broadcast in the next chapter, but it'll serve as fuel to the fire, I promise you.)_ and she just decided to get the Zerg because she could. As I declared in the past, I wanted to change some perspective on how the story ran, and this is one such big difference. One in the road of many, as you'll come to like.

Finally, you'll notice there were some lack of work in some air battle scenes, well, they're pretty hard to describe by them. I just try to define them as best as I can to let you use your imagination in the heat of the reading. Please, forgive that. It's all I'm asking.

So, see you next chapter! Hope you enjoy it! Comment! Criticize! Rant at me! Have fun!


	8. Chapter VI - The Puppet Queen

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER VI - THE PUPPET QUEEN**

* * *

**WHITE STAR BRIDGE, PHAETON  
FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER THE LEVIATHAN CONFRONTATION**

"**I! DON'T! BELIEVE IT!**", a voice roared across the bridge, slamming both his fists on the Star Map Table. The voice of the Emperor of the Dominion, Arcturus Mengsk.

He'd been walking around the bridge of the _White Star_ flagship from point to another endlessly, his face in complete fury. The crew members of the ship had been trying hard to work their stations without being bothered by Mengsk's ranting towards their Captain, Ethel Hardscape, the female blond-haired Ghost agent, Nova Terra, and at least six faces on a hologram screen on the Star Map table, all officers in black uniform with golden shoulder pauldrons. Doubtless ship captains, but it seemed they were responsible for entire Battlecruiser groups. After all, it was complicated to handle so many ships at once, meaning a fleet would be divided in groups of at least ten ships, then those groups would be assigned one person responsible each. While this hierarchy would actually seem antiquated and even vulnerable, this would allow for an easier management of a large fleet.

Unfortunately, it was hard to ignore his endless rage and work at the same time. He could hardly be blamed. The battle that occurred not a few moments ago on the planet was absolute proof of that. How he was still walking and dispensing absolute wrath after the accident on the bridge was a complete mystery. By the moment he woke up on the Sick Bay, he wasted no time in leaving the ward, absolutely claiming he was fine, and stormed to the bridge demanding a situation report. He didn't like what he heard from the mouth of his Captain and what he ordered. That's when Nova also appeared, delivering her report as well. Still, the only good news heard wasn't enough to smooth his anger.

Mengsk's furious expression had been eyeballing the people looking at him at the bridge, foremost Hardscape and Nova. He didn't say anything else, he was attempting to find words for the events that occurred. But what to say when not even words could encompass all the anger he currently spewed out?

"Only one step.", he started, menacing, as he pointed his left index finger up into the air, looking at everyone and no one, like an angry or an insane person would normally do. "One inch. _That was all there was left, nothing more!_ We already HAD them! I could **FEEL** them in my palm, _touching it!_ There was nothing there to stop me! But now THIS!", he added, furiously waving his left hand around.

Suddenly, he started smirking. Then he started crackling. That was enough to make every living person on the bridge shiver and frighten.

"It's funny.", started Mengsk again. "It even sounds like we are in a comedy show! **A FREAKING-REALITY-SITCOM!**", he roared, returning to his state of anger. "And do you know what is the worse of it!? I CAN'T BLAME ANYONE HERE! Right now, those Zerg must be laughing at our faces, gloating around how we were made fools of again, and how that cost us SIXTEEN SHIPS! And, because of that monster, Kerrigan has slipped through our fingers again! Something that would not have happened, WERE NOT FOR YOUR COWARDICE, HARDSCAPE!"

"I did what was necessary, Emperor!", spoke Hardscape, in a firm tone, defending himself. "Indeed, running away from a battle that could still be won is one thing, sir, but suiciding an entire fleet is another!"

"**AND THE BATTLE COULD BE WON!**", roared Mengsk. "**IT COULD! THIS WHOLE CIRCUS WITH KERRIGAN AND RAYNOR SHOULD HAVE ENDED! HERE! NOW! TODAY!**"

"Our ship and our fleet were falling by the minute!", Hardscape shouted, the anger heat also starting to get up to him. "This battle could not be won, AND YOU, AND I, AND EVERYONE IN THIS GOD-FORSAKEN BRIDGE KNOWS IT! You were clearly emotionally compromised during the battle, sir, and this would cost YOUR Dominion the remaining protection we would have against an invasion! What if there are MORE of them out there, Emperor!? What would we be supposed to do without our naval strength!? What could happen if they realized Korhal is vulnerable to a direct assault!? **WHAT WOULD ASSURE EVERYONE THEY WOULDN'T LAUNCH AN ATTACK WITHIN THE HOUR, SIR!?**"

"To end Kerrigan and Raynor, EVERY COST IS WORTH IT!", shouted Mengsk. "Kill them and the Swarm and the Raiders lose their best leadership, and we could end the problem completely in a matter of months! Haven't you thought that!?"

"And what if there's a successor, Emperor? Another Kerrigan and another Jim Raynor!? One like or _worse_ than them!? Have you considered this possibility, sir!? And if there is, how could we _counter_ them without our fleet and army!?"

The scene was quite tense. So was the discussion. But there were a majority of people whom would agree with Hardscape.

Mengsk was clearly not himself during that battle. His rage, his desperation, his fear, everything conspired to have him risk the entire Dominion fleet against the gigantic Zerg Leviathan battling outside _Verhoeven._ His insistence would have costed the last and only shield and sword the largest Terran government in the Sector. Ten ships had already been lost before the battle actually began and six more had fallen to both the menacing weapon of the beast and the minions inside let loose. A loss of more than twenty percent of the fleet, which any military consultant would declare as an unacceptable number of losses. A loss that could have severe consequences in the longest run of the war.

"Sir.", spoke a male voice, one that came from the holographic screen on the Star Map, and that make Mengsk turn around, already agitated. It came from the top left caucasian male image, one using an officer's hat, with the name tag 'DEFORREST'. "You do know I'm loyal to you and the Dominion, sir, but unfortunately I must agree with Hardscape. Especially concerning the creature. We have all witnessed it's power today, sir, and to ignore this would be catastrophic to the Dominion and maybe the entire Sector. If there are more of those 'Leviathans', as the footage of the _Wrath_ demonstrated, we have to be prepared. The Zerg might have a breeding nest of those damn creatures, making more of them within the hour, in shorter time than what we'd take to build and prepare a Battlecruiser. The sooner we find this 'shipyard' of sorts and unleash what we got, sir, the better."

"It may take us time and firepower we do not have, Captain DeForrest.", answered Mengsk back, attempting to calm himself. "Right now, Kerrigan must be with that traitor of a son in the _Hyperion_, planning a new terrorist move elsewhere, or worse: Reuniting the Swarm as we speak! Heading out on a hunt for those creatures, even if they are dangerous, can be costly."

"I disagree, Emperor.", spoke the Asian captain in the top-right screen, with the name 'CHANG' above. "The _Hyperion_ has been outside the perimeter set by the blockade for the last fifteen minutes and has not moved. Neither the _Bucephalus._ Long range Satellite view has revealed extensive engine damage much like ours. It seems the Zerg did not want the Raiders to have an opportunity to rescue Raynor and Kerrigan."

"And Valerian?", asked Mengsk. "Is my bastard son still aboard the research facility or did he manage to escape?"

"The order to pursuit the Zerg creature has cleared the airspace around _Verhoeven._", answered Chang. "Radars have picked Hercules-class transports with Umojan IFF departing towards the _Hyperion_ and the _Bucephalus_ positions. I'm sorry."

"Can we at least _intercept them_!?", demanded Mengsk. "Ensure those rebels don't have something to work with against us?"

"I'm afraid not.", spoke Hardscape. "The battle has heavily damaged the engines of most of our Battlecruisers, it will take at least one hour or two before repairs are completed in every ships. Fighter squadrons are performing repairs, rearming and refuel on the remaining hangar bays our ships still have in operating condition. Plus, we have transports and recovery teams working around the clock, bringing survivors from the ships destroyed. The _Lannister_ and _George Bush_ report almost overcrowded with the quantity of survivors."

"_One hour or two!?_", asked Mengsk, furious. "This means they can still get away!"

"If they escape, Emperor, we'll already have contingency plans to ensure they can't get help from any world!", started Hardscape, trying to assure the Emperor of his point. "I'm sorry, Emperor, but none of us were prepared for the Leviathan's arrival! We arrived to Phaeton assuming we were facing small resistance from facility personnel and two dangerous subjects, we never accounted for the Zerg entering the game!"

"Even so, Emperor, I must insist we focus on the problem at hand.", spoke DeForrest, trying to return on the Leviathan topic. "The Leviathan's capabilities change the whole scenario of the war, and not only because of the tentacles and bile. By the aerial strains it released, not only it's an organic battleship, but also a mobile Hive on it's own. I, personally, do not believe this is the last or only one of those creatures, and more might be breeding as we speak. At least, sir, please allow me to lead a small group of ships to simply find the nest, five cruisers at least. Then, the Dominion can perform the next move with more information."

"I agree with DeForrest.", spoke a long-haired blond female captain, on her thirty-five years, occupying the middle bottom section of the holographic screen, with the name 'GRANT' below. "One Leviathan was enough to severely compromise our military strength. If the Queen of Blades manages to reunite the Swarm, the Dominion may only hold in a matter of days, if not hours. Besides, as DeForrest noted, sir, our shipyards themselves may not be able to keep up with the birth and growing speed of this particular strain. We have to find the nest, for all our sakes."

"How many ships can we deploy immediately, and how long until new ones are prepared to deploy?", asked Mengsk.

"The Dylarian Shipyards report they have twelve vessels only needing minor refit before being ready to deploy in service.", answered Grant. "Other shipyards, docks, stations and platforms report one or two vessels under repair. As for new cruisers, the closest to completion in structural terms are those in practically sixty percent of the construction process. It will still take two weeks before they complete assembly."

"We also have the matter of the occupation of Char, Emperor.", spoke a figure in the bottom-right square, one officer with a hair and mustache with the name 'NEVILLE' below. "Despite Prince Valerian's victory, there is a solid chance the Zerg may recapture the planet. This would serve as a wake-up call to the Broods the Swarm has arisen again. We have to fortify our hold on Char immediately."

"There is too the issue of the occupation of _Verhoeven_.", replied Grant back. "The invasion will certainly provoke reaction from the Protectorate, especially the failure to capture the second primary target. And letting the news out may destroy the remainder of our credibility. We should initiate the recall of our ground personnel before the Umojans arrive."

"If the Umojans arrive, Captain Grant, we will respond with what we have!", answered Mengsk, angry. "We will answer _any_ accusations they make of us invading the facility with demands of explanations as to why one of their facilities has housed the Queen of Blades and the most wanted terrorist, and how they refused to inform Dominion authority _on purpose_!"

"This may provoke negative reaction, sir.", spoke DeForrest. "Reports are already coming from our Embassy in Umoja that the Protectorate is threatening to increase military presence and cease negotiations. Tensions are on the breaking point, sir, it would not be wise to defy them."

"Defy? _Us?_", asked Mengsk. "It was them whom committed this audacity! It's a clear, treasonous plot. It's obvious they would deny knowledge to the end, to buy time for the terrorists to escape."

"Still, my liege...", started Chang, slowly. "Starting a fight with the Umojans, either through words or weapons, may start a war on two fronts we cannot sustain, not with the stress of fighting the Zerg, should they return."

Mengsk ran his right hand across his long, grizzly hair in frustration of the events occurred. For as much as he abhorred in admitting it, Hardscape was right when he said the Zerg's appearance in Phaeton had thrown every battle plan out the window. Were not for them, there would still be a chance at capturing Kerrigan, either in the research facility or outside. DeForrest, Grant and Neville were also right with the other problems, particularly concerning the Leviathan. Never in it's recent five-year history the Dominion had to be concerned with the size of Zerg beasts, other than the Ultralisk, which the Dominion had created it's fearsome ground weapon, the Thor, in preparation for such occurrences. But now, here were the same beasts with another large beast, one that could tear entire battle fleets apart. The possibility that there would be more of those gargantuan beasts frightened the Dominion and the entire Sector itself, as it could _easily_ turn the tables in the favor of the Swarm if they wanted any target to conquer. Even the Protoss would not be able to match both power, size and possible number of such beasts.

Then, there was Char, the very presumed 'homeworld' of those fearsome being, and former seat of power for the Queen of Blades. The Swarm had indeed shattered with the fall of Kerrigan and of most Zerg through out the Sector, but they could quickly reunite should it be taken back. It'd be a demonstration, a grand gesture worthy of conquests of old times, that the Swarm had resurged, and, like sheep, the monsters would return to their favorite shepherd. And, like with every dangerous power, it's better fought divided, with it's leadership lounging into one another in petty wars, all struggling to reach the position of the fallen Queen. Something that most nations, especially those most threatened, like it was with the Dominion, prayed it took a long time. _A very long time._

Finally, there was the Umojan Protectorate. The same Protectorate that aided him in his revolution against the Confederacy and that now it was struggling against him. Doubtless they would try to make use of this invasion to strike at the Dominion, and arm itself in preparation for a possible conflict. A war on two fronts, with the state of the Dominion military, would be something the Protectorate would like. There were also the rumors of new, dangerous technology being applied to the Umojan military. Technology the Dominion would take five to twenty years to apply it to their forces. Still, it was rumor and speculation, but the Protectorate had the fame for an effective means of collecting information. This alone was enough to make anyone unsuspecting the Umojans would enter into war frightened enough, because of both lack of information and the fact the Umojans rarely entered into a state of conflict, acting only when it'd accord them.

"Very well.", spoke Mengsk, bitterly. "Let the rebels escape. We can deal with them later, if needs be. By the time we finish essential repairs here, we'll return to Korhal and rebuild. I want those vessels on the shipyards ready to deploy and I want the shipyards increasing their production. DeForrest, you'll have your five ships by then, you better not disappoint me like _certain people_ had.", he added, looking bitterly at Hardscape and the Ghost besides him. He then returned his view to the holographic screen. "The remainder will return and prepare for an incursion to Char. I want the planet locked down and under Dominion control before anyone can even THINK in reclaiming it! I'm not wasting our advantage looking every and nowhere for Kerrigan or a band of traitors. Now, if you'll excuse us..."

With this said, the holographic screen shut down and returned to it's Cartesian globe, displaying the stars of the Koprulu Sector. Mengsk walked towards Hardscape and the Ghost, Nova Terra.

"I'll remember what happened today, Hardscape.", Mengsk said, in a calm, but menacing mood. "_And I promise I won't forget it._"

Mengsk then looked at Nova. The blonde woman held a guilty face of her own, knowing she failed him at the most important mission in the Dominion.

"And you?", Mengsk started. "What happened? Or, better yet, _what's your excuse_? Did you hesitate? You allowed yourself to get caught? Or did you do what I _exactly_ told you not to!?"

"I did as ordered, sir.", answered Nova. "I followed the procedure."

"_Highly unlikely, Nova!_", exclaimed Mengsk, clearly furious. "If you did follow the procedure, we would have Kerrigan in custody too!"

"I underestimated the target's capability.", spoke Nova, as Mengsk walked around. "Kerrigan still remains strong and able for duty, despite those four years. Perhaps her prior infestation had something to do with it."

"That is believable, Nova.", Mengsk said, pointing his right index finger at Nova. "The only problem is that I can't actually buy that she would discover you while cloaked and ready to fire a Taser bullet! Do I have to have my other _reliable_ Ghosts perform a memory scan on you, just to discover what really happened!?"

However, Nova, this time, remained silent in guilt. So was Hardscape. Mengsk simply looked furious at both, breathing heavily and even grinding his teeth.

"Now listen to me, BOTH OF YOU!", exclaimed Mengsk. "Right now, you two would be in the brig or under torture as punishment for what you did today. Right now, you both would be waiting as we traveled to Korhal, where you both would be executed under capital crime of sedition, disobedience of set orders and interference with the command structure!"

Hardscape simply looked at Mengsk with a bitter face as Nova swallowed her pride dry.

"Fortunately, the both of you were very _lucky_ today.", spoke Mengsk, bitterly. "What happened today would have ensured I would leave with nothing, but now I have Jim Raynor in custody. At least half of what I wanted is better than nothing. And I'll personally ensure that I do not lose my prize. Perhaps he might even be useful in the days to come. Now, if you excuse me, I want you Hardscape to prepare the studio room and contact Korhal, inform them that I'll personally broadcast a speech."

"_A speech?_", asked Hardscape, upset, as Mengsk started to walk towards the access door connecting the bridge of the _White Star._ "You know revealing this sort of information will backlash with the Umojans-"

"_Not this speech, Hardscape!_", spoke Mengsk, furious.

"Then what is it, sir?", asked Hardscape, defiantly. Mengsk simply stopped in his tracks and turned to face Hardscape.

"Right now, the only speech I currently can _think_ of...", he answered in a strange form, yet bitter. "Now, prepare the studio room! I will be preparing in my quarters."

* * *

_Elsewhere, five minutes later..._

"_This was not supposed to happen!_", spoke the sweet, yet angry feminine voice of Izsha on what just occurred, on the result, right on the end of the plan.

It had happened. A flaw appeared on the plan, something that went wrong. It took that long for it to occur, but it was paramount for the real situation. It was simply inevitable, although the ever-watching dark eye wished it was by some heroic restoration and appearance of the Hyperion, some reserve fleet or special weapon the Dominion possessed and Izsha ignored, or something of that nature.

Instead, it happened in the sight of Sarah Kerrigan, lying down, _unconscious_, with that light gray skimpy suit, on the dark, fleshy 'floor' of the Leviathan. Kerrigan seemed asleep on that floor, in a fetal position that Izsha assured she would remain that way. But the problem was that Kerrigan wasn't sleeping. She only breathed weakly, as the body tried to recover from the blunt-force trauma that occurred just two minutes ago. The beasts that were 'carrying' the Terran vessel she was inside were absolutely _careless_ in putting the ship on the ground, simply releasing their tongues and literally lobbing the ship against one of the fleshy walls.

The ship itself was not damaged, at least not more ruined than it already was, but the force of the impact was what assured Kerrigan was unconscious. Maybe she hit her head on one of the metal walls of the cockpit or even the cockpit panel itself. It didn't matter. What mattered was that the Leviathan's tentacles perfurated their way to breach the Dropship, from the cargo hold and moving upwards to the pilot cabin, and found Kerrigan just lied down on the floor and not moving. The tentacles simply embraced her body and slowly brought her off the Terran vessel. The sight of her unconscious made Izsha get a feeling of shock, surprise and anger. That's when the eye had the tentacles put Kerrigan gently on that floor and then summoned Abathur to have a little 'talk'.

"I have alerted you, Izsha!", spoke the deep-pitched male voice of Abathur, seemingly in protest. "I have alerted you the Viper was not prepared for field testing conditions! I refuse to take responsibility for your decision to accelerate the deployment!"

"It _seemed_ ready to me.", answered Izsha, defiantly. "And, as I said, sometimes you oughta _run_ instead of walking. At least now you know what you should fix. It's fortunate she's just unconscious, and not dead. Still, I at least wanted her _awake!_"

"When you have designed the Viper strand, Izsha, you desired a strain that would pull ships and throw them into one another with ease, not to handle captured vessels _gently_ and bring them intact!", spoke the voice of Abathur.

"Still, you could have programmed something for this kind of situation, and on your own whim, either way!", spoke Izsha, angry. "Haven't you Zerg ever heard of the '_self-initiative_' word? Or '_personal touch_'? '_Additional functions_'? '_Plan ahead_'? Something of that nature? Are you just the simple Igor to the very letter, whom just pulls the switch because the 'Master' said so?"

The dark eye let out a heavy sigh as it attempted to calm itself down. The eye had been focusing on Kerrigan since then, wincing once in a while to keep an eye in the Zerg beasts that were in proximity to the lied down ex-Queen.

"Well...", spoke Izsha, trying to control the frustration of the moment. "At least I can plan the introduction and my proposal for her a bit longer still. Make some speech and lines before she awakes and notices she's not in Kansas anymore... In the meantime, Abathur, I'd like you to keep an 'eye' on her. Warn me when she gets on her feet..."

"I could utilize her condition to our advantage.", spoke Abathur. "Initiate the infestation process and augment her current-"

"Don't even **THINK** about it!", censored Izsha, seemingly upset. "It's not enough the panic and drama she'll make when she realizes she's on our 'ship', but I won't have her freak out more because of sudden changes in her look! Besides, this will unleash her powers and she'll just tear the beast apart in anger, with you and I along! _I won't have that!_"

A brief moment of silence went on before it was broken again.

"Apologies, Izsha.", spoke Abathur. "Perhaps I moved too far ahead in your plan to reintegrate the Terran female into the Swarm."

"OUR plan, Abathur.", Izsha answered, being very rigid. "And yes, you _did overstep_ yourself. I won't have her infested, at least not in the way it was supposed to be. She's to be my puppet, nothing more beyond that."

Suddenly, the dark eye started spasming on it's own as it forced it's brown pupil upwards, like if some form of supernatural possession was occurring or some virulent condition close to that nature. Then, suddenly, it also returned to it's natural condition.

"Hmm...", muttered Izsha, in sudden contemplation and curiosity. "_Interesting..._"

"What is interesting, Izsha?", asked Abathur.

"Our dear Emperor is starting to make a speech all over the Sector.", Izsha spoke, simply looking upwards. "Something about Kerrigan and Raynor being dead...", it added, letting chuckle. "_Maybe I could use that to our advantage..._ Keep an eye on the lady, and empty the area. I'll take a closer look on that."

"By 'empty the area', Izsha, you mean to let no minions in this place?", Abathur asked. "Is this appropriate?"

"The doors will be locked, the minions will be outside.", spoke Izsha. "Let her think she's safe, for the moment... Don't worry, though. There's too little to worry about."

"And how will you use the Emperor's speech to your advantage?", asked Abathur.

"Well, the original plan was to force her to serve us.", spoke Izsha, letting herself out a smirk.

"But now... It seems I can make her _want_ to."

* * *

**HANGAR BAY B, BATTLECRUISER '_AGAMEMNON_'**

The sparse hangar of the Battlecruiser, despite being large and spacious, was literally crowded with people and smaller ships.

Crates spread through out the hangar were being moved within the hour by the crewmembers in yellow-clad monkey suits. Some, however, were left behind as seats or makeshift beds for the wounded coming within the hour. Wounded from the battle or the cruiser crash. Officers, scientists, crewmembers and even pilots and soldiers walked towards the exit access door, were sit on the cold floor or over the crates or just standing at their feet, waiting for someone to attend them. They were all bruised and filthy with dark ash of the fumes of their falling cruiser. Some had stains of blood on their clothing, meaning they were either medical personnel that were performing their job or they were wounded somewhere during the action.

Ships of most shapes and sizes could be seen landed over the hangar, with sparking from crewmembers wielding welders or those coming from SCVs, obviously performing repairs on those battered vessels, who've seen the greatest fight in their lives. Ships of other types, especially transports, were coming inside the hangar, dropping their cargo, this either being materials or passengers, and then left the hangar. There were also medical teams, several inside the large, yet slim CMC-405, attending to those people on the hangar. Some of those people, at least some dozens, served in the fallen Battlecruiser Wrath.

Some people like Ebert Henderson, whom was now undergoing through check-up post the battle that would've costed his life. The battle against the largest monster, whom also held a literal Swarm of smaller monsters. Monsters that costed the life of his battle partner, Red-Zero-Three. Monsters that killed his friend and others. Something that wasn't supposed to happen. The Zerg were not supposed to appear on that day. Yet, they did. And now everything was blown to hell.

Henderson, outside his helmet and outside his trusted Viking, was like any ordinary common citizen. He beared a short brown hair and some unshaved beard riddling the cheeks of his face, something not common for one serving in military forces, where the hair should be short and the facial fur wiped clean, the skin surface of cheeks, chin and mouth be exposed in it's naked glory. His face, whom featured blue eyes, had been battered from the exhaustive battle and the series of unfortunate events that riddled him.

The female doctor had finished her check-up and dismissed Henderson, whom stepped aside after hearing the sound of rocket engines. Another Dropship started to land on the far side of the hangar. Another truckload of wounded or wearied people, or corpses to be stacked into a corner of the hangar, after being enveloped in a bodybag. Fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters... All whom had fallen in service. Service to the Dominion. Service to Man, especially in fighting that gigantic beast.

The landing gear of the Dropship unfolded from the sides of the cargo bay as the large vessel started approaching itself to the cold floor, the fire from the rocket engines getting smaller by the minute as the sound lowered it's pitch and intensity. Henderson's left eye picked one black figure and some blue ones moving beside him, all moving forward to greet the Dropship. Or, at least, the people inside it.

"Captain on the hangar close to the Dropship about to open. Typical.", spoke a female voice, an Eastern American accent, to the right of Henderson. He looked to the right and saw the woman figure, probably twenty-five years old, wearing a dark gray pilot suit with a black jacket, the front holding some basic military equipment. Her head bore green eyes, a smooth face covered in sweat, probably from the heat of battle or the ship's interiors, and a short red hair. She was holding her pilot helmet beneath her right armpit, one of futuristic design with a dark-brown visor, riddled in small hexagons that could only be seen upclose and into strong light. Her pilot suit had stitched Dominion symbols on both left and right shoulders and a small name tag, named '_Litvak_' could be read on the black jacket. "Think it's the Emperor?", she asked.

"Could be anyone right now, Lydia.", spoke Henderson, deadpan, simply looking at the scene. "Right now, I don't care."

The pilot lady simply looked at him with some grief of her own too.

"I was there, Ebert.", she said, trying to comfort Henderson. "_You_ were there. We couldn't have done anything about Rex."

"I was the squad leader, girl.", spoke Henderson. "It was my command. Responsibility was mine."

"Squad leader doesn't mean '_babysitter_', Henderson.", spoke Litvak. "He had his problems fighting those damn Zerg, I did, and you sure did too. Rex would say it was nobody's fault, just the Zerg's. Son of a bitch would even make a joke about his death."

Suddenly, the cargo hold doors of the Dropship opened, revealing the personnel inside. People in blue and black clothing, people working at the bridge of a Battlecruiser. Henderson immediately recognized the female figure wearing a black officer suit and hat, with ribbons with stars on her shoulders instead of the golden pauldrons seen on the male black person, whom was the captain of the _Agamemnon_. Besides her stood an old person, with forty-five years on his back and gray hair riddling his wearied face. Henderson and Litvak walked towards the persons who were saluting one another. Towards Lilith Daniels, Feud Thorne and Mitchell DeForrest.

"Wish I could welcome you aboard, miss Daniels.", spoke DeForrest, extending his right hand. "Sorry for your Battlecruiser."

"Don't regret, captain.", spoke Lilith, extending her right hand as well, shaking it with DeForrest. "It's no shame going down in a fight. Eighth general rule."

Henderson and Litvak approached the officers and saluted as well. Lilith and Thorne took notice of them, as did DeForrest shortly.

"Red Squad Alpha, reporting for debriefing, Captain.", Henderson said.

"We can cover debriefing much later, Henderson.", spoke Lilith. "Still, it's good to see some of my capable airmen have lived through this day."

"Yes, ma'am, but only some.", spoke Henderson. "We have had a casualty, though."

"Sorry for your loss.", spoke DeForrest. He then turned towards Lilith and Thorne. "And the _Wrath_? How many casualties?"

"Enough.", spoke Lilith, although she was speaking of acceptable loss numbers and not wanting to offend or dismiss the conversation.

"We should be finishing repairs within the next hour and half.", spoke DeForrest. "By then, we'll return to Dylar, where you should be assigned a new vessel."

"This immediately?", asked Thorne, surprised with the speed of things.

"Well, it's impressive what big sizes can do to people.", answered DeForrest. "Mengsk ordered every shipyard to double their work effort. The rest of the Fleet had been in meeting for the last few minutes, all concerning the Leviathan. I've just been assigned five ships to find a possible source of production of those creatures."

This very last line made the eyes of Lilith, Thorne, Henderson and Litvak open wide in awe.

"_Source of production_!?", asked Henderson, shocked. "So they think there might be _more_ of those!?"

"If there are, the Dominion won't stand even shortly.", answered DeForrest. "You and your wing woman fought this creature, as we did. You, I and all of us know now what it's capable of."

"But that's something that doesn't make any sense.", started Thorne. "If there are more of these creatures, even before the beginning of the War, why the hell Kerrigan hasn't just _attacked_ the Dominion in full force? _She could've taken Korhal if she wanted_!"

This very thought stroke deeply into the minds of the people gathering in there, foremost the captains.

It was true that the Dominion had not been in a perfect shape ever since the end of the Brood War, five years ago. Literally, the military had been in a crippling state, being barely able to return to their feet for four years before the first wave of Zerg hit the Koprulu Sector again. The Dominion had indeed advanced in it's military capacity and weaponry, the clear example of this being the Viking itself and the improvement of the old Arclite variant for the Siege Tank, this improvement being called the Crucio, but, unfortunately, so did the Zerg, introducing new and dangerous strains that complemented those already known and fought for over five years.

"Honestly, mister Thorne, I can't fathom why.", answered DeForrest. "Perhaps the Queen of Blades is like a child, whom likes to play with the food before chewing it. Maybe she likes to torment the Emperor for days on end. Maybe she's getting soft, or regretful of her actions. All I know is that she wouldn't keep her monsters from invading if not on purpose, like if she just wanted something."

"Still, this doesn't change the fact this is the most serious threat we faced since their appearance, nearly five years ago.", spoke Lilith. "Mengsk did the right thing having you look out for a nest, or shipyard or whatever it is they are using to breed those things."

"Well, touching on the matter, unless I'm mistaken, I could say you'd be after the blood of those beasts if you could.", spoke DeForrest.

Lilith simply looked intrigued at him.

"What do you mean?", she asked.

"Please, I can recognize a desire for revenge when I see it.", answered DeForrest. "That beast just took down your ship and killed good men and women. I'd say this would be enough reason for chasing this creature, wouldn't you agree?"

"Duty comes first, DeForrest.", spoke Lilith, serious. "Otherwise I wouldn't be a captain for long. I can't just renegade my obligations just to go after someone or something, even if it's dangerous."

"Actually...", started DeForrest. "I can have you do both. Mengsk allowed me to pick the ships for the job. The only thing I'll ask you is: How far are you willing to go?"

Lilith simply didn't answer. She just looked at DeForrest, then at Thorne, then at the pilot duo just watching the conversation. They all simply looked at her, waiting for her decision.

But it was Litvak whom broke the silence.

"You're waiting for something or what, Captain?", Litvak started. "Like, someone protesting it's insanity, risking our lives for personal revenge and stuff? Well, me and Henderson won't just do that."

"But I can't force you to follow me.", answered Lilith. "I can't ask you that, especially after what happened today. If any of you wants to stay or even leave the crew, now's the time."

"Leave?", asked Henderson, feeling insulted. "And let Rex's murderers just walk, _just like that_?"

"We're with you, Captain.", spoke Litvak. "But if you don't want, we can stay, 'coz sure as hell we'll join the chase."

Lilith had only been staying there, looking over her comrades and those whom stood with DeForrest. Thorne and the other officers remained silent, as did DeForrest and his men.

"I'll... I'll have to consider.", spoke Lilith, as a very tiny smirk appeared in DeForrest's face. "But later I'll want to make a speech, to the crew, both yours and mine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to talk in private with Captain DeForrest."

DeForrest and his officers stepped aside as Lilith and her officers proceeded towards the access door that led to outside the hangar. Afterwards, DeForrest himself left with his crewmembers, leaving only Henderson and Litvak standing there, with a confident look on their eyes.

It would happen.

The black banners of Vengeance would soar very soon. And the red men and women of the Dominion would hold it alot.

Men and women of both _Wrath_ and _Agamemnon_ would hold it aloft.

* * *

**HYPERION BRIDGE, OUTSKIRTS OF PLANET PHAETON**  
**SEVEN MINUTES LATER**

It was over.

He had lost them. Both of them.

They were either dead or captured. Still, he'd failed them. He failed the woman that was going to be their newest crewmember and asset and for the first time he failed his leader. He failed the man that inspired him and the crew of the ship through all the literal Hell they've been into.

Jim Raynor had done so much for those people, and now, when he needed the most, _they couldn't help him._ Or Kerrigan.

This very thought had haunted the mind of Matt Horner, whom was leaning by the Star Map table, struggling with all his strength to avoid breaking emotionally. If someone were close to him, he or she could see a small tear running down his right eye, a reaction from the failure that occurred not so long ago. Those looking at him around the bridge, like Cade, Hall and the young Tactical Assessment officer Bralik, wished to head towards him and try to comfort his anguish, foremost Hall, whom was concerned herself with Horner's stability.

She could hardly blame him, as well as anyone on the bridge could. They knew it wasn't his fault,_ he virtually tried every trick on the book_. Unfortunately, the Dominion was playing ignorant this time, determined to get both Kerrigan and Raynor by any means. Then, as if the disgrace of the situation wasn't enough, the Zerg had come. They had come, hard and fast, and disabled the _Hyperion_'s engines, as well as those of the _Bucephalus_. Reports have even recently came in that Prince Valerian's Battlecruiser might be a lost cause, but nothing was definitive as of yet. It was even advised to the transports carrying Valerian, his loyal surviving Marines and the evacuated Umojan personel to land and remain on the _Hyperion_ until the situation on the _Bucephalus_ could be properly assessed.

She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that he did all he could.

Still, he'd say it wasn't enough. He'd say he could've done and should've done more. Unfortunately, it'd do little good now.

Then, out of nowhere, the access door to Horner's left, close to the arc that would lead to the frontal viewing window, opened. From it, came two images, one in front of another. The first was a gruff, wearied and wounded old mustached mechanic, riddled with bandages on his head and right forearm with some blood stains, using an orange monkey suit and his trademark wrench-arm and the second, a female figure behind him, a bit taller and larger, probably because she was wearing a CMC-405 Light Combat Suit. Horner looked at the scene and became upset.

"What the hell!?", asked Horner.

"_He insisted, Captain._", readily answered Lily Preston, referring to Rory Swann, the said mechanic. "I tried to keep him in bed, but he insisted in going back to work."

"If one of your patients was in terminal condition, lady, I bet you'd come up as soon as.", Swann said, a bit weak on his tone, but still remaining firm.

"You were supposed to be _resting_, Swann.", answered Horner, angry and worried. "Look at your state. And still you want to go to work?"

Swann let out a heavy sigh, but he was still weak to try and argue with Horner.

"I've been through much worse, playboy.", spoke Swann, briefly waving his wrench-hand, that automatically clamped down and reopened again, like a beast's mouth. "_This reminds me everyday of it_. How's the ship?"

"Not good, but the _Bucephalus_ is looking more worse.", answered Horner. "The engine explosions damaged our warp engines, and we can't do much right now until they're repaired."

"Yeah, I heard.", answered Swann, looking at Horner. "Zerg, huh? I thought they were somewhere else, acting like the damn monsters they are."

"Me too.", spoke Horner, getting sad as he let out a heavy sigh of his own.

"Heard you put Kachinsky to work while I was out.", spoke Swann.

"The last time I heard, he said things were going fine with repairs.", Horner said, looking at Swann. "You disapprove or something?"

"No.", answered Swann. "The boy was too in deep with those robots, it was time he was put into some hard work and stuff.", he added, letting out a small chuckle. He then simply looked at Horner and his sad expression, whom was staring at the starry void outside the Battlecruiser. "Is there something I should know, Horner?"

"I wished I could tell you later, Swann, but-", started Horner when the sound of the access door opening interrupted him, having him and Swann turn around to see whom was coming through the door. Three figures appeared through the opening, walking towards the bridge. The first was Prince Valerian, that, despite the imposing of his regal clothing, he shared the most of burden as did most people, and this could be seen on his face expression. Then came Proctor Stratton, the short-haired director of the research facility, whom seemed strangely tired, perhaps it was the tension of the battle on Phaeton. The final figure was a red-clad Dominion Marine holding a minigun that still seemed to be letting out some post-fire smoke. The visor opened up revealing an African-american male person of a gruff appearance, although he looked relieved like the rest.

"Man, never thought I'd say it in my life, _but thank God the Zerg showed up_!", exclaimed Sergeant Reggie Reamer.

This very statement was enough to make everyone shut their mouths and start looking angrily towards Reamer, foremost Swann and Horner. But Marcus Cade, the _Hyperion_ navigator, got on his feet.

"_Excuse me!?_", exclaimed Cade, clearly angry. "We just got attacked and had people hospitalized, and you have the audacity to _praise_ the bastards!?"

"Cade, stop it, I'll handle it!", exclaimed Horner as well.

"The Zerg attacked you as well, mister Horner?", asked Stratton.

"And you pencil-neck are?", asked Swann.

"Proctor Stratton, Chief of Medicine in the recently destroyed _Verhoeven_ research facility.", answered Stratton, ironically. "Now a refugee at the time being."

"Answering questions, yes, the Zerg attacked us too, and hit us hard.", spoke Horner, trying to put an end to the conversation. "It'll still take less than an hour to repair the engines to a decent condition, but we'll have to look for somewhere else to finish repairs."

"Damn.", spoke Reamer, dumbstruck. "Well, sorry for what I said, but you ain't been in the facility, Captain sir. You ain't seen the shit I've seen."

"Why don't you enlighten us with your story then, huh,_ funny bags_?", asked Swann.

The people simply remained quiet by the bridge, waiting Reamer to start the story.

"Well, it started with a bit messy stuff, having to fight Dominion at every corner just to get Raynor and his lady off the station and into the tram.", spoke Reamer. "That's why, after we did the pull, we went back to Prince's location's, which was in an access corridor. We arrived there, saw them with the Umojans needing help, me and my men did what we do best: Rushed in, killed Daddy's troops and then entered the hangar. Guess the surprise."

"What?", asked Horner, deadpan.

"Not just Dominion troops in the hangar.", Reamer answered. "Bastards landed some of those Viking suckers, and they unleashed their full lead on us for five straight minutes. I've had to stash Valerian, Stratton and scientist folks on a corner while I saw Able and Pyle's men get cut to sushi bits."

"I would like if you dismissed this part, Sergeant.", spoke Valerian. "Whoever was piloting them, they were imbeciles or complete bastards. Enough to even butcher their own fellow men to get a shot at us."

"No!", spoke Swann, not believing it. "They really got to that point, Charming?"

"Well, shortening the story, it's been like this for five minutes until suddenly, out of nowhere, they simply transformed back into fighter jets and flew off the hangar.", resumed Reamer. "People just got dumbstruck, I mean, what the hell makes four Vikings fly off the hangar without killing all the remaining brothers? Man, what I saw when I peeked off the air definitely answered the question."

"And what was it?", asked Cade.

"A big Zerg monster.", answered Reamer. "Real big, I mean, uh, Augustgrad big."

"How big?", asked Horner, leaning closer, being caught by Reamer's tale like fish being caught by the silver hook.

"Big as you can see from a Zerg.", answered Reamer. "Guess you could fit a Battlecruiser into the mouth of that thing. But the tentacles were what scared the hell off."

"_Leviathan._", answered Horner, shutting his eyes in both frustration and realization. "Now we know what forced the blockade out."

The room remained silent after Horner finished his line.

"So you've met those creatures before.", spoke Stratton.

"On Char.", replied Horner. "It wreaked havoc in several Battlecruisers before we could disable their orbital platform. I'm quite sure you remember it, Valerian."

Valerian himself closed his eyes, trying to forget that enormous amount of trouble both his fleet, along with the Raiders, had went through on Char. In the midst of the campaign that would ultimately dethrone the Queen of Blades, a joint operation was launched in two different targets in order to neutralize the most dangerous of Zerg defenses, that were blocking every attempt to advance at Kerrigan's primary Hive Cluster. While Horner and Valerian had taken the fleet to neutralize an orbiting space platform that was the center of the Zerg aerial defenses, Raynor had taken Swann, his former friend-in-arms Tychus Findlay and the Chief Scientist of the _Hyperion_, Egon Stetmann, to the underground to flood the primary Zerg transportation network, in the form of massive Nydus worms, with lava erupting from unstable volcanic fissures.

The operation in the underground was performed by a series of demolitions using small thermonuclear demolition charges that were set to detonate as the Zerg remained occupied in attempting to neutralize the detonations. Every time the charges detonated, the network of tunnels became more and more unstable as new lava eruptions flooded every section. In the way, Raynor's warband had rescued stranded Dominion teams sent by General Horace Warfield in previous, but failed attempts to perform this operation. The only greatest obstacle appeared in the form of a Zerg Queen that had erupted when the final demolition charge was set, but it was dealt with as well. As the final charge was detonated, the network systems housing the immense Nydus Worms were neutralized, not allowing that Kerrigan could utilize alternative transportation to flank or even breach the Dominion and Raider perimeter.

Meanwhile, in Char's orbit, the Dominion and the Raiders had been engaging the Zerg head-on as a taskforce under Horner and Valerian's command landed on the said platform, trying to find a way to neutralize the platform. The solution came in the form of Coolant Towers that kept temperatures in the power reactors in each platform section stable. Without those, the reactors would overheat and explode the entire platform section, including the gravity generators that kept the platform in orbit. With each successive explosion, through effective use of small Banshee squadrons, artillery teams and tactical nuclear warheads, the massive Zerg hives and the nests below the metallic superstructure were caught in the explosion, generating massive Zerg losses as well as the loss of their aerial superiority.

The operation was proving to be extremely effective for the taskforce, with minimal, before the huge Leviathan strain appeared. It was then that the equation changed, as Valerian and Horner were forced to mobilize an entire Battlecruiser force to engage and destroy the creature, before it could disrupt the operations in the platform. Massive losses occurred with the capital ships destroyed before the solution appeared to break through the creature's thick carapace: The brute force of Yamato cannons seemed to be the only thing that managed to effectively skewer the carapace of the creatures, exposing the living flesh for aerial forces to fire against, allowing to wound it and, therefore, ending it's life. With the creature fallen, the platform was finally neutralized, as it started to be pulled by the volcanic planet's gravity. This very event would be one to put a memory on both Raiders and Dominion personnel for a long time, particularly the monster.

"Well, I don't remember seeing none, I was on the surface like most people, shooting Dominion and all that.", Reamer commented. "But it was sure big, from where I was standing, and it's making kind a party on those Dominion ships. Then it released the Zerg we knew, Mutalisk, Scourge and Corruptor suckers, that's where shit got thick. Been like this for a few minutes before the Battlecruisers started to unleash the Yamatos on the big thick mother."

"The creature's carapace is just too thick for any weapon with firepower below the Yamato Cannon to drill through.", explained Horner. "Did they manage to kill it?"

"That's the problem.", Reamer answered. "The son of a bitch turned tails and began to ran off."

"_What_!?", asked Cade, caught by surprise.

"Yeah, brother, asked that myself too.", Reamer said, looking at Cade, then at the people. "But then, the fleet started chasing tail after it, including the fighters. That's when we could run off."

"Which direction it went?", asked Stratton.

"Sorry?", Reamer asked, not listening Stratton's question.

"The Leviathan.", Stratton repeated, increasingly nervous. "Which direction it went when it ran?"

"Well, it went South, last time I saw.", answered Reamer.

The answer was enough to make Stratton's eyes widen.

"_Right towards the landing pad_.", concluded Stratton, despondent.

The answer was enough to make everyone in the bridge widen their eyes in shock and realization.

The beast headed towards Raynor and Kerrigan and they didn't knew about.

"No!", shouted Swann, appalled, in protest. "No, no, Raynor and Kerrigan would've left the platform by then, they would've come back by now!", he added, looking at the people's faces in the bridge and then at Horner. "They came back and are somewhere in the ship, right?"

Horner, however, spoke nothing. He knew it'd come to this, when he'd have to give Swann, Valerian and the newcomers of the bad news. He'd been gathering strength to speak when Valerian also started.

"I was going to ask that as well.", Valerian said. "Where are they?"

Horner closed his eyes in sadness, letting out a sigh.

"They...", started Horner, hesitating as he opened his eyes. "_They didn't make it_."

The room remained silent, the people aghast with the news, struggling to not believe it, refusing to believe it.

"No.", muttered Swann, aghast. "No, it can't be, it's not possible!"

"It is, Swann.", Horner said back. "And it happened."

"But... _how_?", asked Valerian.

"Raynor remained behind, he was trying to buy time for Kerrigan to get away.", Horner explained. "And Kerrigan said she didn't know why he'd do it, as if it was possible for both to leave and he stayed on purpose."

"But- but it doesn't make sense!", Valerian said, shocked. "_He'd never do such a thing_!"

"Kerrigan says he did.", spoke Horner. "He remained behind, insisting on her to go out first."

"That stubborn son of a bitch...", spoke Reamer, disappointed. "Sir... Please, if you'll excuse me...", Reamer added, slowly, to Valerian, as he walked past the small crowd to the access door.

"But... If Kerrigan got away, how'd you lost her?", Stratton asked.

"She just finished telling me what happened to Jim when the Zerg came in.", Horner answered.

Valerian's eyes widened.

"_The **ZERG** got her!?_", exclaimed Valerian, stepping forward.

"I don't know, I was hearing the attack until I lost communications.", answered Horner. "Maybe they didn't capture her. Maybe she was just killed."

"I doubt it.", spoke Hall, taking her turn in the conversation. "For the Zerg to have attacked both us and the Dominion fleet, it must have been for her."

"Well, the Zerg lost their Queen a couple of days ago.", Preston said. "Maybe they just ran amok and attacked the planet because, hell, why not?"

"Can't be, Preston.", answered Cade. "You heard that guy, the beast turned back the moment the Dominion fired the cannons. If it was a pure beast, it would've stayed and fought to the death. Plus, there's the attack in our engines, as it sounded a bit _too coordinated_ for your standard Zerg type."

"I agree with mister Cade.", spoke Stratton. "Zerg normally don't behave the way they did today. There was an intelligence at play. Some sort of general or something else, and it's clear it'd want Kerrigan alive and with the Zerg. The question now is, _what for_?"

"And why bother to guess?", asked Swann. "The cowboy's girlfriend is the Queen of those damn monsters. Who's got her clearly wants something to do with controlling the Zerg."

"There's no way we can know that, Swann.", spoke Horner in disagreement.

"Come on, playboy, you get the most powerful lady in the whole damn world and you wouldn't want a piece of that power cake for your own?", asked Swann.

The people on the bridge remained quiet, pondering Swann's point of view. He had a point. Kerrigan, apparently, had ten times more value alive than dead. In fact, the only person that wanted her dead so far was Arcturus Mengsk, but any other with a far sight of things could see an utility to the former leader of the Swarm.

"Maybe he's right.", spoke Stratton. A long pause then proceeded.

"Well, then...", started Horner. "Now what?"

"I don't know, Horner, you call the shots now, you tell us.", spoke Swann.

"I can't do that, Swann.", Horner said, in disagreement. "I-"

"You were Raynor's second-in-command and closest friend, sir.", spoke Hall, interrupting. "There's no better succession, and I doubt we can find another."

"You're asking me to put the lives of not just the crew, but of the whole damn revolution,_ in my hands_!", Horner said, nervous. "I- I just can't assume this kind of responsibility."

"Well, it seems you have to, Captain.", spoke Cade. "Besides, you've been with our good Commander for a hell of a long time, you must've learned a thing or two."

"But-", started Horner, when he was interrupted.

"Face it, playboy, you're the boss now.", Swann said. "Not much you can do now, so I suggest you shut it and tuck in for the ride. Besides... The cowboy would want you leading this bunch, someday."

The very last line launched memories of a good old day during the revolution, when the first true step was done. Of when the first real victory against the Dominion happened.

But not a military one, in which the Dominion could eventually recover. it was one that'd make the people see whom their 'Emperor' truly was instead of what he was telling the people about. Arcturus Mengsk had been using the media, the people's opinion, against the Raiders for all those five years of ruling and as a shield against the atrocities his government was committing against it's own subjects. But that fateful siege in Augustgrad's downtown, utilizing a stolen Dominion prototype, had changed that. But the Odin War Machine, the gigantic siege mech that would be the basis for the smaller variant known as the Thor, was just a tool. The real weapon was the transmission from during the revolution, at the verge of the Confederacy's downfall. The transmission showed Mengsk authorizing the installation and activation of Psi Emitters on the Confederate seat of power, which would attract the Zerg Swarm to completely devastate the planet and it's population. As this transmission was spread through captured Universal News Network (UNN) transmission towers, the result was more than expected: Doubt and riots had risen across every Dominion-controlled colony and the Core Worlds, forcing the government to institute a galactic-wide Martial Law, suspicion had risen in military ranks and even political circles in Dominion bureaucracy, and Mengsk's government approval rate dropped to fourteen percent. The lowest rating in Dominion history.

As Mengsk could be seen in television, desperately attempting to counter the marauding wave of journalists and angry crowds with small handguns and Molotov cocktails, Raynor and Horner simply remained in the Hyperion's Cantina, celebrating their victory in private with some liquor from the bar and a pair of antique Cuban cigars from the beginning of the 21st century. Conversation spewed between both cowboy and captain concerning Hearts and Minds, and how this was vital to the victory of revolutions and wars.

_"You know, Matt...", _started Raynor, holding his dead as he looked at Horner._ "Someday you're going to wind up leading this bunch of misfits."_

_"Oh, no!", _spoke Horner in protest, as he lit the fire, delivering it to Raynor so he could light the cigar up._ "That's what I keep you around for, sir."_

What Raynor never knew, however, was that Horner actually meant it. Horner wasn't like Raynor, he never had the determination he had for justice, never had the tactical capability that allowed the Raiders to live through the storm so far, he was just a ship captain. Pure and simple.

He had been since he left his life of comfort and safety, like an idealistic naive boy, and became one with a revolution that was going to put down the 'evil empire' the Confederacy was and establish a better future. Indeed, he had to support the hardships of the first years in training amidst the Confederate Navy, but only because the Sons of Korhal advised it. The moment he graduated, he immediately deserted and joined the revolution, starting with a simpleton merchant ship, the _Cormorant_, but then gradually advancing to become one of Mengsk's personal captain in his former flagship, the _Hyperion_.

However, Horner came to be deluded and disgusted when Mengsk finally ascended, especially in the final days of the revolution, where his means to an end caused the death of billions and where he began to betray even his closest lieutenants, such as Sarah Kerrigan. In the end, the dashing, idealistic rebel crusader that Mengsk was, as Raynor usually called him, turned to be no better than the oppressors Horner fought so much against. Horner was one of the first to break with Raynor from the Sons of Korhal after the Tarsonis Genocide, taking the _Hyperion_, it's crew and an entire complement of men under Horner's command with him. Horner was set as the captain of the _Hyperion_ through excelling navigational and command skills, as he became Raynor's second-in-command of the Raiders, the new revolution who'd accomplish the promises Mengsk had broken on that day. They'd avenge those fallen unfairly to Mengsk's cunning, atoning their sins in participating in the plot, and would set the better future that should have been when the Confederacy fell.

His thoughts were interrupted as the access door, this time to the right wall of the bridge, leading to other areas opened. From there, bursted a caucasian man with short hair and black glasses, his facial feature being a large scar that ran across his left eye to the left cheek. The man was breathing heavily, as if he ran to hastily head to the bridge, as if something happened.

"Horner!", shouted Graven Hill. "The Cantina, now! There's a brawl going on!"

"**WHAT!?**", shouted Horner, shocked, as he ran to this second access door, following Hill. Valerian, Stratton and the majority of the bridge crew followed.

Out of most disgraces that happened all at once in that day, that was the _last_ thing Horner needed.

* * *

The _Hyperion_ Cantina seemed like the hybrid of a mess hall, a makeshift street pub and a tavern encased in metal. Circular tables with blue neon lights fit for a quick dining and beverage drinking were spread across the floor that wasn't taken by the liquor bar, with metal chairs providing seat for the people whom the only demand was that he or she wasn't using a combat suit. On the wall corners, close to the two access doors leading outside, lied respectively the bar, whom stored the beverage the barkeep, Cooper, would deliver in controlled doses, and an arcade video-game machine that some people could use for passing an hour or two while not on service. Close to the arcade, lied an access stair to a particular overlook balcony people could be there for some particular socializing, where was also a table displaying the hologram of a dancing strip-club performer. Above one of the access doors, lied a panel with trophies and prizes of acts done along the course of the revolution, like Zerg jaws, a green banner from a colony the Raiders saved in the beginning of the Second Great War, and the burnt sign of the New Folsom Prison, which the Raiders broke open during the war. On the thin wall between the door and the bar, stood a small square with a Marshall's badge, akin to the stars given to Sheriffs in the old Wild West. A badge that belonged to Jim Raynor, on his old days as a Confederate colonial Marshall in Mar Sara. The roof that a massive luminary that was perhaps a bit too low for people to pass through and over one of the Cantina's tables, where grown up people could easily reach it. On this luminary, however, lied two important things attached to it. One of them was an old jukebox, that seemed similar to ones used in the 20th Century. The second was the flat television screen, where people could accompany the news that were being cast by either the UNN or other television networks across the Koprulu Sector, be they in territory under jurisdiction of the Terran Dominion, the Kel-Morian Combine or the Umojan Protectorate.

Normally, this was the appearance of the Cantina when nothing was going on, when it was a simple, normal day.

But not today.

And this could be seen on the ripped off metal table that was thrown to a group of Umojan scientists, whom had to scram away from the wall so they wouldn't be hit.

"GET DOWN! GET DOWN!", screamed one of the scientists.

"Get behind the bar, he's gonna trash the place up!", shouted another scientist, a female one this time. The people began to ran astray the moment the fight began.

The moment Reamer wanted to have a word or two with Nick Braxton. Now, here he was, grabbing the metal tables and ripping them off their bolted supports, all to throw them at the slim scientist that was working his best to avoid the animal attacks of that African-american Marine going on a rampage.

"Get back here! You son of a...", shouted Reamer, trying yet again to grab Braxton, as the young one fooled him on one of the tables and got behind him, grabbing the nearest bottle.

"You wanna fight like a man, jackass, _start by taking off the suit_!", shouted Braxton back, pointing the bottle at him.

"Oh, _now you wanna play fair_, huh, you mother...", asked Reamer, clearly raging towards Braxton, whom slipped through yet again, rolling with an unnatural skill through the floor. Braxton took his shot and threw the bottle at Reamer's back. The bottle had hit the Marine suit's back, but it was practically harmless.

"Come on!", Reamer roared. "Get up close! Let me show you something!"

"Bring it up, monkey butt, let's see what you can do!", teased Braxton, ironically, waving his arms to call Reamer to the fight.

"**NO ONE CALLS ME A MONKEY!**", Reamer screamed, heading to charge at Braxton, before something caught up to him and stopped him. He looked around and saw two other Marines, bearing red-clad color, trying to hold through his shoulders.

"Sir, get a hold of yourself!", shouted one of the Marines, struggling to hold him.

"Thanks, fellas!", shouted Braxton, as he took advantage to move in, climb Reamer's body and deliver a punch through the helmet. Reamer grimaced in pain as he broke from the restraints of his subordinates and pushed Braxton back, making the slim scientist literally fly to the wall. He'd hit on something soft. Or better, someone. He landed on top of Jessica Hall, whom just arrived at the Cantina with a stream of people whom bursted all at once at the place to check at the scene. Reamer tried advancing again towards Braxton when the men he'd released himself from grabbed him again, with more force and anger of their own this time. Braxton caught the scene and quickly got up on his feet.

"You son of a-", Braxton started screaming and running to Reamer when he was stopped and then subsequently pushed by a man in black officer suit with golden shoulder pauldrons.

"**STOP IT!**", shouted Matt Horner. "**STOP IT, NOW!**"

"**WHAT IN THE SPHINCTER OF HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?**", roared a young voice that echoed in the small Cantina. A young, yet commanding voice, almost military, that belonged to an infuriating Prince Valerian. The entire Cantina remained quiet as a result of the booming roar, as the people remained frozen in nervous posture. Braxton and Reamer had stopped trying to advance into one another, even more with the crowd halves holding both, although they were itching to lounge into one another again.

"I've been here, amongst you, soldiers, for just _five_ years!", shouted Valerian, obviously having lost it. "Not ten, not twenty, just five! _And, in those five years, I've never seen such kind of behavior_! And now, now that we just learned we lost both Raynor and Kerrigan, **I DIDN'T HAVE TO SEE THIS TODAY!** Now, which one you will explain this!?"

"_Ask him first_!", shouted Braxton, angry, motioning his head at Reamer. "He came in here and already started throwing stuff in me around, and I can't figure the fekk out why!"

"Why don't you tell them, huh, you clown!?", roared Reamer. "_It was you, wasn't it_!? You called the Dominion, you brought the whole fleet here!"

"That's a freaking lie!", Braxton shouted back.

"Hold it, **HOLD IT!**", Horner shouted, starting to get angry as he tried to control both people. "Now listen to me, mister, you didn't have to do this, not on my ship!"

"And where's the proof it was this brat whom called the Dominion!?", asked Swann, in the back.

"_And do you **need** one_!?", asked Reamer, furious. "This son of a bitch in here had threatened to call them since Kerrigan came in the facility, and he threatened right in your boss' face."

"**WHAT!?**", Swann exclaimed, angry as well.

"Hey, I forgot the number, but if you take off your suit, I might gladly give it to you!", Braxton provoked.

"Along with a kiss, sweetheart?", teased Reamer as well.

"**THAT'S ENOUGH!**", roared Horner. "Now listen to me, _both of you_, I too do not know how in the hell the Dominion found us, but pointing fingers and starting a fight will not solve a damn thing right now!"

"Well, sir, come to think of it, I also thought Mengsk wouldn't have brought the whole Dominion Fleet without a reason.", spoke Cade, in the background. "Otherwise, it'd only be a cruiser or five, something we could fight against. There's no other explanation, Captain, _someone told them we were here._"

"But how!?", asked Pyle, whom was on the other corner of the Cantina and upset as well. "We have had monitored transmissions in and outside _Verhoeven_, no one called in outside."

"I did.", spoke Valerian.

The whole room remained silent as all looked towards Valerian, particularly Braxton, whom was upset as well as he managed to release himself from his captors.

"_Excuse me_!?", Braxton asked, angry.

"But it was a safe line, Stratton showed it to me, and it was a trustworthy contact.", Valerian answered, trying to defend himself. "Doctor Emil Narud, of the Moebius Foundation."

A long silence took up the Cantina, as a realization brew on Horner.

"So, that explains it.", Horner said. "They traced the line."

"That's impossible, damn thing is encrypted, I saw to that.", protested Pyle. "There's no way they could've bugged the line."

"Then how it happened!?", asked Horner, nervous.

"Mengsk.", Swann said. "He found out about Valerian and Narud and forced a deal. Either that or your doctor buddy ain't that trustworthy, Prince Charming."

"It can't be, mister Swann, Emil would never turn the coat.", Valerian said in protest.

"Yeah, and how can you be sure?", asked Swann back. "Because, the way it went on, they forced him to open his mouth or he opened it _on purpose!_"

Valerian could not say one single word after that. He then closed his eyes in resignation.

"Well...", started Braxton, ironically as he slowly walked towards Valerian. "_Isn't this just beautiful_?"

Valerian opened his eyes, simply eye-locking Braxton head-on.

"Are you really going to do this?", asked Valerian, defiantly. "Hit a Dominion Crown Prince in front of everyone, especially his guards?"

"Heck, I'm sure_ itching for it_!", Braxton said, ironically, as he walked around the cantina's ripped off table supports. "After all, I almost got my bones broken for _free_! And now, because of Mister Goldilocks screw-up, the ship loses the Captain, the boss loses his research and everyone's running with their tails on fire!", he added, looking at everyone and no one. "_A really bitchy day, huh?_", he teased, with an ironic smile.

"That's enough, Braxton!", shouted Stratton, now growing angry of Braxton's attitude. He then looked at Horner, breathing to try and control himself. "Captain Horner, the moment you can allow, I'd like to talk in private to discuss the destinations where our personnel can disembark."

"That in itself may be a problem.", spoke Horner back. "The moment the Dominion broadcasts you had everything to do with housing Kerrigan, you won't be able to stay in a safe world without anyone denouncing you."

"There's always Haven, Captain.", spoke Hall, nearly having recovered herself from Braxton's fall over her. "Doctor Hanson and her people have had been thankful for us helping them when the Dominion didn't. They can help us in return by housing Stratton and his people for the time being, until the dust settles down."

"We can bring heat over the colony, Hall, heat they don't need.", Horner said in disagreement. "It's pretty much enough what they went through with the Zerg and the Protoss."

It had indeed been pretty much enough. The colony of Haven was virtually an unclaimed world before the situation of the war demanded the refugees had established themselves there. Refugees from the farming colony of Agria and other worlds. In the beginning of the Second Great War, when the Zerg attacked in full force, the Dominion had pulled back their military prowess directly to the Core Worlds, leaving the fringe worlds to their own luck. Agria's denizens and their representative, Ariel Hanson, would've fallen too were not for the distress call answered by Jim Raynor and his people, whom personally had overseen the evacuation. Then, the refugees were endangered yet again on Meinhoff, a former Kel-Morian colony where the refugees gathered en masse, but were caught by a virulent infestation provoked by the Zerg, to create a literal army of expendable Terrans. Again, Raynor had answered the call and ensured the destruction of the infested settlements, giving time for Hanson and the remaining uninfested refugees to escape to Haven.

But then, the Protoss had been keeping track of the infestation and even sent an expeditionary force, under the helm of High Executor Selendis, to purify the planet by fire. They even attempted to sway Raynor to purge the remaining infestation in their stead, but the promising results of a cure that would reverse the effects of the Zerg infestation had made Raynor engage his old allies in defense of the refugees. Now, with the threats gone and Haven now being able to rebuild in peace, bringing Umojan people under the aim of the Dominion would mean bringing more trouble to the poor refugees, trouble they did not have to face after so much suffering.

"Well, we can't leave them in Deadman's Port either.", Swann said. "Those guys wouldn't last one day in that place. I think Haven will have to do, besides, those people lost all respect for Mengsk's Dominion. None of them will want to even snitch, for all I know."

Horner simply closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He never even considered Deadman's Port, either. Not only this meant the scientists would be in trouble in the first moment they stepped on the mercenary-driven system, it'd also mean Horner would have to talk to her. Her, the last person he'd need to see right now.

"Very well, then.", spoke Horner, resigning. "By the time we're finished with repairs, we'll head to Haven and drop the scientists. Then, we'll head out and... decide on what to do next. Now, can we please end the matter here?"

"I'll only ask mister Braxton and Sergeant Reamer stay.", spoke Valerian. "I have one last thing to talk to them."

"_Joyful, joyful_.", spoke Braxton, deadpan, as the crowd began to disperse. Stratton only approached Braxton closely.

"I'd enjoy the ride if I were you Braxton.", Stratton said, menancingly. "Because, the moment we leave the _Hyperion_, you and I will have a long talk concerning your future in the group."

With the line finished, Stratton turned around and left with the crowd, as a few remained behind as they would repair the mess done. Only Valerian, Braxton and Reamer remained behind. The Crown Prince simply approached both with a stern face.

"Don't talk, just listen.", Valerian said, disappointed. "Your antics here today would've bought you both more than a week in the brig. But the problem is, I had a part in all this mess as well, so I'll let it lie for now. But I don't want to see this kind of behavior from you both anymore, and I don't care if it's here, in the _Bucephalus_, or any other place!"

Braxton and Reamer simply looked at him, as Valerian stared at both back.

"_You can go now_.", Valerian concluded in disgust, as he walked to the access door. Braxton and Reamer remained behind, simply looking at one another.

"_No apology_?", started Braxton, sarcastically.

"Maybe later.", answered Reamer, bitterly.

"I'll be downstairs.", spoke Braxton, as he left Reamer in the Cantina as well.

Reamer simply started picking one of the tables he ripped off and started putting it somewhere else, trying to help repair the mess he did.

* * *

_In the Agamemnon..._

The locker rooms of the _Agamemnon_, meant for pilots, crewmen and personnel, with annex showers with a sparse water supply, had nothing much to differ from standard lockers seen in high schools, industrial workplaces, military stations and others, except maybe the fluorescent lights, the walls, floor and roof, which were pure metal, and the lockers themselves, that had a small computer screen denoting the name of their users, with a small badge reader that would open the metal locks once the proper badge was inserted, allowing the respective person to access the contents inside.

A new locker had been designed for Henderson, whom was now shoving his pilot helmet, black jacket and the equipment on locker 42. The name HENDERSON flashed in the small tag screen as his portrait was displayed in a small, green holographic screen flashing above the badge reader. At his right side was Litvak, whom was also storing her things in her new, temporary locker.

"Some of the crew here has given us their spare clothing while we wash the pilot jackets.", Litvak commented. "We just need to see which ones fit our sizes."

"Yeah, but I'll shower first.", Henderson said. "I need some water to pry things off my head."

"Really, _mein herr_?", spoke a female, Germanic voice behind Henderson, whom he instantly recognized. He widened his eyes in shock. "I heard that some painkiller medication or a memory wipe works quite effectively as well."

Henderson turned around to search for the source of the sound. However, he could find no one, there, but a blonde woman with a ponytail and pilot suit whom was scavenging through the clothing pile in one of the seats.

"Uhh...", started Henderson, a bit nervous, when the blond woman raised her head. Her face seemed like someone in her thirties and bore a short nose and blue eyes. Her cheek bone structure had a clear, defined Germanic trait. Henderson now knew the face of the person whom helped and even played with him during the air combat. "I... I think just the cold water will do just fine, thank you."

The German female simply frowned and look a bit aside, as if stating it was alright.

"Have it your way, then.", the woman said. Henderson simply turned back to his locker. "But I'll still wait for your thanks, _Rot-Nüll-Sechs_."

Henderson instantly turned around to face the woman, his eyes widened in shock. She knew whom he was. Litvak, getting his wingman's erratic behavior, simply looked at him then directed her attention to the German woman.

"But...", Henderson said, aghast. "_How-_"

"_Bitte, mein herr_, you'd never imagine how easily 'tis to discover the name of one person.", the German said, letting out a chuckle. "Even more when you have 'ze privileges of being a Wing Commander. Isn't it, _Herr Henderson_?"

"Who is her?", asked Litvak, a bit suspicious. Henderson was struggling quite hard to avoid denoting his frustration at the situation.

"Basically, _mein frau_, I'm his savior and comrade in arms in that mess that_ Lüftkampt_ was.", the German female answered, in a depreciative tone. "But 'zis fair that I tell you my name, as I already know his and yours, _Frau_ Lizvak. Greta Richthofen Keitel, at your service.", she added, extending her right hand. Litvak, looking a strange sight, simply extended her right hand, shaking it with the newfound comrade. "'Tis quite interesting that two wings that briefly came to know and fight one alongside another_ join_ the same cruiser. Either it's fate itself, or some other monstruous factor playing with it."

"You'd wish.", said Litvak, deadpan. "I doubt we might stay any longer than we'd need to be, as we'll be returning to Dylar and then we'd change ships."

"Perhaps, good _Frau_.", Keitel answered, shrugging her head. "Time 'tis quite short in the days of now, 'ze best we can do is make 'ze most, I'm afraid."

"_Wing Commander Keitel, Wing Commander Keitel, report to Briefing Room immediately_.", spoke a voice that echoed from the PA boxes stacked in the walls above. "_Repeat, Wing Commander Keitel to Briefing Room immediately_."

"Aww.", lamented Keitel, letting out a brief sigh. "Shame it's ended now, now that we were starting. Well, duty calls. Speak to you later, _Herr und Frau_."

Keitel then turned around and headed to the access door leading outside the locker room, as she was smirking joyfully. She briefly looked behind, to the couple, as she walked away.

"_This woman saved you_!?", asked Litvak, to Henderson, whom was now breathing deeply in relief, as she returned to her locker. "Tell you something, Ebert, for a Wing Commander, _she's awfully socializing_."

"Compared to her, the Zerg don't look_ that_ scary, if you ask me.", commented Henderson.

"Oh, that's why you were shaking and stuff?", Litvak teased, letting out a smirk. She looked longer into Henderson's eyes and noticed a realization growing. "No..."

"What?", Henderson asked, suspiciously, looking at Litvak.

"_Crush at first sight? Her?_", Litvak asked, to the point of nearly breaking into a laughter.

"Shut up!", Henderson exclaimed. Litvak couldn't contain as she started laughing around. The male Viking pilot could not believe what he just heard, and from his own wing women. "That woman, me and her, _are you kidding me_!? That's not funny!"

"Lighten up, Ebbs, I'm just messin' with ya!", Litvak said as she ceased her laughter, in a playful mood.

"_Sounded you were dead serious_!", Henderson spoke, appalled. "Ever thought that woman might find a way to get her and her squad transferred to our new ship?"

"I hope not!", exclaimed Litvak back, her eyes widening. "If that happens, make sure you bring a crate, I'll find the airlock."

A beeping noise echoed through the locker room from the PA system. It beeped for three times, calling the attention of all people in the room, including Henderson and Litvak.

"_If I may have your attention please, for ten minutes?_", asked the PA voice, a male one, that Litvak and Henderson recognized. "_For those of you new to the Agamemnon, whom served in the fallen Wrath and Khrushchev, I'd like to welcome you aboard. I'm Captain Mitchell DeForrest, commanding officer of this vessel and Group Commander to the Dominion Fleet. Before I deliver you the motive behind this announcement, I'd like to deliver my sympathies to the people whom lost both ship and comrades to the battle that just occurred. The grief of losing that which you learned to love is a pain just too deep to heal, even more persons you got to be acquainted with, and in such a brief time. Such is the problem of serving in the military. I honestly hope you enjoy your brief stay in our simple, humble star vessel, as we await for our damaged engines to be repaired as well as the rest of the fleet. By then, it should close to one hour until we reach the shipyards at Dylar IV, in which you'll then be allowed to disembark. Now, I'd like to pass the word to the former commanding officer of the Wrath, Captain Lilith Daniels_."

Some silence went on before the transmission continued.

"_Greetings, people of the Agamemnon, of the Khrushchev, and former pilots and crew of the Wrath_.", spoke a second voice on the PA, a female one, that Henderson and Litvak recognized as well. "_This is Captain Daniels. First of all, I'd like to thank you, Captain DeForrest, for the opportunity. It's a bit complicated what I'll say as of now, so please, excuse me if was rash when I'm done. I won't mince words about our current situation, we have lost too much here, on this planet. We lost our ships, we lost our friends, we lost our primary target. Still, despite our recent loss, I wish to congratulate you for your actions in the battle that occurred. You stood firm and strong in the trial that would've costed far much than our vessel, should we had not stayed the course. No one is to blame for what happened here, and anyone who says otherwise is either lying or trying to insult the memories of those fallen today. No one could've foreseen the entrance of the Zerg in this operation, nor the damage they would have caused. Their interference has ensured the waste of an opportunity that may take years before it presents itself again, the opportunity to end this war, with the capture of the Queen of Blades._"

"_Yet, while we have failed, we have not fallen, nor faltered. And thus, our work is not done, but it has changed. The appearance of the gigantic Zerg creature, that intelligence calls the 'Leviathan', has completely changed the equation of our war against the Swarm. The equation that the Dominion, and perhaps the entire Sector, may fall if nothing is done to that creature, or more of them, if there are. As of a few minutes ago, Emperor Mengsk commissioned Captain DeForrest to assemble a taskforce to find all Leviathans, neutralize them and find and neutralize the source of their production. Answering Captain DeForrest's request, the crew of the Wrath has elected to volunteer for the dangerous operation ahead. Now, I'd like to extend this invitation to the former captain and crewmembers of the fallen Khrushchev. I cannot force you to join us in this task, nor I would if I've had the power to do so. I only ask of you to understand that this may be our only chance, however slight, to deliver the Dominion a better fighting chance and even save it, should a future invasion occur. Time is of the essence. I'll ask for a voting between crewmembers that wish or not to join the operation. The result should come within five hours. Thank you for your attention. Daniels out._"

A beeping noise was heard afterwards, denoting the end of the transmission. Nothing more was heard afterwards.

The people in the locker room resumed their duties, as did Henderson and Litvak. Both looked into one another then at the people around them. They'd normally ask to the others if they'd join the fight, but they didn't. They did not care.

The answer was already said. At least, for both.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Pain. Sheer, utter pain, foremost at the head. A blunt-force trauma too strong, even for a psychic. Even for Sarah Kerrigan.

'_Oww..._', thought Kerrigan as she recovered her senses. '_That really hurt._'

The Ghost with tendril-like hair and skimpy environment suit had gradually opened her eyes as she found herself in a strangely comfortable fetal position on the floor. A floor that was warm. And soft. A fleshy floor. She slowly got on her feet as she noticed the dark surroundings of that place, which was barely lit, foremost in a crimson red.

"Where am I?", asked Kerrigan to herself, silently, as she had seen the fleshy walls, floor and roof the gigantic dark, apparently ovular chamber around her. Brown-colored flesh distributed everywhere as it was divided in columns of bone-like tendrils, whom curved without a sense of purpose or aesthetic beauty. In some places across these walls, she noticed balloon-like orbs, glowing the same crimson red that the mist below did. Somewhere amidst the walls lied small holes shut, fit for some purpose related to the chamber. Dividing those walls lied three spiky flesh with lines, like closed mouths tucked shut by those 'teeth'. Doors of some sort. One of them was peculiar to the other two, as it formed a concave and was larger. The air reeked at the same time of beastly aroma and, strangely, breathable air.

"Oh, no...", she added, in sad realization. She was inside the belly of the gigantic beast. _Inside a Zerg creature_.

She looked at the chamber around her, seemingly empty. As she made a turn with her head she saw her transportation, landed in a way unfit for a vessel. The Dropship, whom now was visibly a wreckage of what it was. This could be seen in the ripped open cargo hold door and the damaged engines, that were letting out a small steam that would last for a long time. She noticed there was no Zerg creatures, of any format or type whatsoever, anywhere in the chamber. Nothing seemed to be moving or making a sound other than her. The only other sound was a dim one, a very soft humming echoing lightly across the chamber.

She looked at her surroundings and noticed she was weaponless. Her rifle must have remained in the Dropship.

'_Gotta get outta here._', thought Kerrigan, as she carefully walked to the Terran vessel, looking nervous at every corner on the lookout for surprises. '_At least, find a **safe** way out_.'

Kerrigan entered the Dropship's cargo hold and noticed a bit of the devastation the Zerg did to the ship, obviously having done it to get her on the pilot cabin. The lift was gone, a massive hole of torn metal in it's stead, as some small sparkling from the active cables was seen, along with some tiny columns of smoke. She noticed some torn metal was bent in a way and direction she could grab, hold on to, and climb to pick her weapon. She walked in forward as she turned around, walking backwards as her senses and eyes kept on full alert for surprises that might come suddenly. She stopped as she reached the hole. She kept a long watch on the door as she grabbed the edge of a torn metal piece, and tightened her grip on it. She then diverted her look to the edge and held herself over it, pushing the metal below to lift herself upwards one small level above. The metal let out a small twisting sound, but nothing that could attract attention. At least she hoped it'd not, not until she was unarmed.

She got on her feet and looked upwards, to the pilot cabin that'd be dead ahead. She'd only have to hop a bit and grab on the edge, then lift herself. She looked at the edge, her mind calculating distance and the strength she'd have to apply before she jumped. A wrong one and someone or something could listen, and this would be the end of her.

She hopped.

And her left hand grabbed the edge of the ripped metal, holding her. Kerrigan wasted no time in putting her right hand to hold as well, breathing in relief. She slowly started pushing the metal below, this time not making any noise, as she started to lift herself upwards. She managed, with a seemingly exhausting effort, to lift to a point where she could support her forearms to help finish the course.

Suddenly a loud noise has heard. Then, Kerrigan could feel something thick embracing her quickly in a tight coil, in her abdomen, and pulling her out brutally.

"**NO! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**"

She let out a desperate scream as she was quickly dragged out of the Dropship and then sled to the fleshy ground outside, where she barely could avoid from sliding or hitting something. She turned around to see a large tentacle, it's extension as thick as a rocket fuel hose and it's tip a spiky format of a rocket warhead. The tentacle tip was staring at her, and she was staring at it.

Suddenly, she heard noises. Beastly noises. Noises of growling and twitching, making her eyes widen in fear. She turned around slowly to see she wasn't alone. She gasped in fear and briefly crawled in her back as she saw the monsters. Monsters that were reminded overgrown fleas with jaws and insectile wings and paws, that looked at her with evil-glowing yellow eyes and their mouths were open and drooling like mad hounds. Their skin was dark brown and scaled, riddled with thorns and smaller bone-like carapace. Two huge limbs extended from above them, with spikes as thick as gigantic lion teeth, with two more smaller spikes below them.

Zerglings. And they were crawling like lions inbound to strike at their pray towards her. Another type of monsters also joined these Zerglings. Monsters whose head bones reminded alien dinosaurs, one bone extending in front of another, above a seemingly serpentine body with arms, covered in brown flesh and scaled skin running along it's 'belly'. These monsters seemed more beastly than the Zerglings as their opened jaws divided into three separate parts. The arms were thick as muscular arms from soldiers of third-world countries, with three large bone-like limbs of closely the same size as the arm. Hydralisks. They all looked fearsome and mighty and menacing close to the soft woman, whom looked at each and everyone of them, expecting one of them to start their strike against her.

Suddenly, a few of them gave room as a new creature, one unlike Kerrigan had even seen walked forward and towards her. This creature curiously reminded an overgrown, Earthly shrimp, but one that gave an insidious look contrary to the threatening ones that surrounded her. Fleshy, pulsating orbs of a yellow-green color, like pus from wounds, covered the upper back of this creature, divided by a forehead scaled in black carapace running towards it's back. Four limbs, like alien arms, extended from the sides of this creature, and so did six limbs as they ran down their body, two of them carrying some sort of sac of the same color as the orbs. Below the carapaces of the forehead lied a very tiny skull-like forehead with four eyes, with small insectile jaws below them, as well as a disturbing vertical opening below them that reminded a female sexual organ. A sickening green glow emanated from the small forehead, as if it was aiming at Kerrigan.

Suddenly her thoughts flashed through her head in an inconvenient time, as she remembered several limbs and a shrimp-like shape of something coming at her. The same shape that being looking at her had!

'_What the hell is that... thing!?_', Kerrigan thought, in desperation, as she crawled back, her face an utter expression of horror. The creature, however, seemed to gradually slide towards her, gazing at her. Whatever it was, it was going to do something at her, and it wasn't good. She prepared her soul for the torment that'd come. No doubt it was going to be the nightmare all over again.

Then...

"Minimal physical damage.", a deep-pitched, male voice echoed in the chamber. Kerrigan simply looked around, for the source of the sound, as the creatures simply... stopped.

"_What the!?_", Kerrigan muttered, as she returned her look on the Zerg creature.

"No sign of flesh wounds, nor burnt marks or perfurations. Small occurrence of blunt force trauma.", the male voice spoke again, except this time Kerrigan noticed the vertical opening of the strange creature moving and ondulating. Like a human mouth.

'_That thing is speaking!?_', Kerrigan thought, surprised, as she looked at it with an intrigued and surprised face.

"Remniscent of Zerg gene strands, unorganized, ineffective. Majority of genetic material remains Terran.", the creature motioned as it '_spoke_'. "Chemical and cellular metabolism at accelerated levels, denoting an emotional distress. Release of breathable components suggests an overzealous reaction of self-preservation, in which Terran organisms would denominate as 'fear'."

"Yes, I'm seeing she's just fine, thank you very much. Now, can you please _excuse_ us?", asked a new voice, a female one, which Kerrigan noticed as uncomfortably sweet and gleeful, yet frightening. Even more because it spoke so freely, like a Terran would.

The creature then began to turn around and leave, and did the Zerglings and Hydralisks, although those only went back a bit and remained into a corner. As these Zerg gave room, Kerrigan noticed a shape hiding behind shadows. A shape Kerrigan knew it was staring at her.

"You'll forgive Abathur, in time, Kerrigan.", spoke the female voice again, and Kerrigan somehow knew it was coming from that shape, that slowly began to crawl down to the floor. "What he lacks in behavior he certainly makes up for his work."

"Who are you?", spoke Kerrigan, tense, as she slowly started to get on her feet, but not taking her eyes of the figure. "_And how do you know my name?_"

The female voice let out a small chuckle.

"_All_ in the Swarm knows your name... And your former title.", the figure said, in an insidious manner. "You've been our Queen for quite some time, as the Terrans must have told you. At least I hope they did.", the voice added, as the figure started sliding itself into the light.

The figure revealed was one Kerrigan would describe as an alien Medusa. Or a Gorgon, she couldn't know, she never studied Greek mythology to differ one from other, only reminding the form in movies she'd seen. It was a snake-like body that seemed to extend to the shadowed corner of the chamber and upwards into a dark hole, one Kerrigan couldn't see. A snake body scaled in brown carapace. But this did not disturb Kerrigan, what did disturb was the upper parts of the body: A feminine frame that always seemed to keep it's dark arms wrapped in a waist, as if they always remained like this or were dead. A frame that kept a scaled carapace over it's chest, obviously of a female Terran's appearance. All wrapped in four scaled tentacles that extended from the head and were hovering around the body. There was a fifth tentacle that was not like the rest, as it seemed to extend the same way the lower body part did from below.

However, what was even more disturbing was the creature's_ face_: It was clearly a female Terran one, although it was lacking a nose, judging from the bone structure. Soft, human like black lips, cheeks and chin that seemed to hide 'her' collection of feral teeth behind it, like the tooth of animals. She lacked any visible eyebrows and a forehead, but the eyes were different. Unlike the yellow devilish ones of Hydralisks and Zerglings, or the green ones of that creature Kerrigan saw not a while ago, the eyes of this monster woman were different: They were completely pitch-black, except for the pupils, which it could be seen brown Terran pupils if one was to look closer. Pupils that were staring in an uncomfortable form at Kerrigan, making a shiver grow on the Ghost's spine. That, and the creature's apparent small smirk.

"But I suppose it's fair I present myself, after all, the Xel'Naga artifact they used on you must have damaged you beyond repair.", the Medusa-like Zerg said. "I am Izsha, advisor to the Swarm and, currently, the acting captain of this Leviathan."

Suddenly, thoughts came brewing in Kerrigan's mind as it began to relive some memories of voices. Voices that spoke words Kerrigan knew she couldn't have heard them. She started to make rationalizations on her mind as she grew even more nervous.

"Advisor?", asked Kerrigan, tense. "_Queen_?"

Kerrigan's face weakened in despair as a realization took care of her.

"No.", she said, in denial. "No, that's impossible! I... can't simply be-"

"_The Queen of Blades, of course._", the creature called Izsha said, interrupting Kerrigan, with an insidious look and tone. "Murderess of millions, _billions_ of beings, be they Terran, Protoss, Zerg or any other... And the Queen of the Zerg. And that's how I plan for you to _return_.", she added, strangely emphasizing the '_billions_' word gleefully, as Kerrigan then stared at her. "And don't ask me why. My reasons for helping you are my own."

'_Plan to return?_', Kerrigan thought, as she then remembered that day.

Tarsonis.

When she was left behind.

"Return?", asked Kerrigan, nervous, her eyes gradually widening bloodshot in despair. "Return, as... as an **ALIEN**!?"

"Well, I was actually planning to leave the aesthetic part for much later, but if you insist on _rushing_ things...", Izsha answered, quite dismissive. "Still, I'm sure you'd pretty much want to join me, anyways."

"_Are you insane!?_", asked Kerrigan, tense and angry. "Why the hell would I _ever_ want to join you!?"

"Oh, there are many reasons why.", Izsha answered, smiling. "But I'm quite sure you'd refuse to listen and try to hurt me and my minions. Unless, of course, you'd like to first hear my offer. _An offer I know you just can't refuse..._", she added, with a sneaky tone.

"Oh, I'd refuse, you monster, and I'd rather die!", replied Kerrigan, defiantly. Then, Izsha's face lost her grace and changed to a serious one, her eyes tightening as her smirk vanished.

Suddenly, tentacles started emerging from the holes that once were decorating the walls of the chamber, Kerrigan now knowing what they were used for. These tentacles started crawling slowly, but intimidatingly down the chamber, all coming towards Izsha, in a strange demonstration of intelligence, and then joining her, all aiming at Kerrigan, whom now lost her newfound defiance.

Kerrigan was now seeing only one way out. She started concentrating in preparation for what would come.

"Mind your mouth, little girl.", Izsha said, slowly and menacingly. "I can grant you that wish. And I can very well snap your neck, especially if you start using your psionics like I know you will do now."

Suddenly, Kerrigan lost all confidence. She was trembling inside, like a child afraid of monsters. Izsha knew.

"What are you waiting for, then?", Kerrigan asked, nervous. "Just... get over with it!"

"_That's not your choice_.", Izsha answered, coldly. "I have plans for you, and a corpse won't do a better job."

"Plans?", Kerrigan asked, a realization now coming at what Izsha said. "You said you were my advisor, and you want me to return as your Queen? Where's the sense in all that?"

"It's different this time, Kerrigan.", Izsha spoke, as the tentacles slowly began to retreat. "You see, in the past we had our roles... You were the hand that guided us and we were the puppets. This time, the papers reverse. It's _my_ turn to handle things now."

"So I'm to become the _puppet_ now?", Kerrigan asked, tense. "What makes you think that I'll simply obey? Why I would even want to join you? I got no reason to help you right now. And I got nothing more to lose.", she added, as she turned her back on Izsha and started walking away, expecting some sort of attack from her back.

"Not even revenge, Kerrigan?", Izsha said, in a tempting mood, strangely not losing her mood. "_Against Arcturus Mengsk?_"

Kerrigan stopped in her tracks. She then turned around.

"And why would you care about that?", asked Kerrigan. "Why would you care with what I want?"

Izsha, instead, said nothing. It was when a mix of scrambling sounds, obviously some transmission whom was tuning itself to become audible by human terms, started to arise. Suddenly, a female voice started speaking, although being also filtered by a bit of flanger from the Zerg's communication methods. Kerrigan was slowly caught by the transmission itself.

"_...I repeat, amongst the dead confirmed here, in a raid in a clandestine research facility in planet Phaeton, are the notorious rebel terrorist Jim Raynor and the presumed Queen of Blades, whom was seen under Raider custody._", spoke the voice of Kate Lockwell, main anchorwoman for the Universal News Network. "_An outsourced denounce had led Dominion teams to this research facility, where they confirmed the presence of several core members of Raynor's terrorist group, as well as the Queen of Blades and the Crown Prince of the Dominion, Valerian Mengsk, whom was, as reported by official Dominion soldiers, being held hostage by the terrorist group since his disappearance prior to the inauguration of the Dominion's newest flagship, the White Star. Unfortunately, during the raid, Crown Prince Valerian was found dead by Dominion personnel, whom confirm it was an execution carried out by Jim Raynor. The bodies of both Raynor and the Queen of Blades are still to be released for press cover, but, at this time, Dominion sources confirm, the Queen of Blades and Jim Raynor were shot and killed. I'm being told that Emperor Mengsk will address us directly from Phaeton. We'll take you to his announcement, already in progress._"

Kerrigan herself had weakened her resolve in the news. The news she didn't have to remember. That she witnessed first hand.

"_Proud Dominion citizens!_", exclaimed the voice of Arcturus Mengsk, in a triumphant tone. "_At long last, our nightmare is over! The Queen of Blades and the lawless terrorist, James Raynor, are dead! The Zerg threat has been removed, with their Swarm shattered and leaderless. No more terror descends upon us, no more fear, no more death. Even criminals, pirates and the Protoss do not dare approach our Dominion, after this demonstration of our resolution and our power. Without the Queen of Blades to haunt us, I'm confident the Zerg threat will be eliminated very soon. In short, we have won. Our peace and security is assured, and no one will dare question our righteous rule, as we stride in the new universe we will build together. Now, may we finally sleep in peace through this dusk, knowing a new dawn lies before us. A golden dawn for humanity. Good night, my faithful subjects._"

Kerrigan then felt something crawling up on her. Something different than sorrow. The feeling of anger and rage, as her eye pupils turned into a fierce golden-yellow color and she let out a bloodcurdling roar. The chamber began to tremble as a white light started to gather around Kerrigan, increasing more and more as her fists clenched and she screamed with all the fury she could muster. Izsha simply remained behind, watching it all with a smirk. Then, no longer able to contain itself, the light bursted away and spread across the large chamber, but it affected nothing and no one in it.

Feeling tired, exhausted and in agony, Kerrigan could not stand on her feet anymore. She let herself collapse to the floor, sitting down as she gathered herself in a tight embrace with her knees, on the verge of falling in that crying sorrow once more. It wasn't enough that she lost what she loved. It wasn't enough she could do nothing. Now, her own enemies were _gloating_ on the matter. The gloat of the victorious is unbearable to the ears of those defeated. Especially if the victor is Arcturus Mengsk, in all his prepotence and arrogance.

Izsha simply watched the scene, then she knew what to do. She started sliding towards the sit body of the little girl on that fleshy floor.

"He took him from you, Kerrigan.", Izsha said, in an uncomfortable, teasing manner.

"Leave me alone.", Kerrigan said, too anguished to fight, lost in her thoughts.

"He took _everything_ from you, Emperor Arcturus Mengsk.", Izsha continued. "Freedom, a normal life... And now your boyfriend. And still, after all that, you don't want to kill him? _Now who isn't making any sense?_"

"_I do want him down, monster!_", Kerrigan exclaimed, looking behind. "But I'd want to do it as myself. As a Terran."

"_As a Terran..._", Izsha mocked, letting out a chuckle. "I find that will be quite _difficult_, in your state... You've been very much popular as of lately, with the highest of Protoss warriors to the simple Agria farmer getting in line to settle scores with you. After what you've done over these five years, I doubt there'd be anyone who'd want to help you in your revenge, and even these people would be as much hated as you are."

Kerrigan refused to listen, but she couldn't. The worse of was the devil in the shape of a woman was right. Her deeds already condemned her over those years she couldn't come back. And then, she was too distracted with her anguish, her memories of her loved one lost before she was brought to that place. She simply looked below, at that fleshy ground, thinking with herself.

Izsha had seen Kerrigan had not answered, but had not protested as well. It was when the Zerg woman decided to push things a bit further, as she slowly slid behind Kerrigan and came close to her.

"Can't you see what I'm doing?", asked Izsha, softly. "I could've killed you, but I _rescued_ you. And now I'm offering you help. I'm offering you a chance on payback. I'm offering you the _means_ to do it. Just bring me my Swarm, and I'll bring you your revenge. It's all I'm asking."

It was when Kerrigan could feel something touching her. Something long and warm. Izsha's tentacles, which could be her hair, were touching Kerrigan and caressing her, like a mother would comfort her daughter in a dubiously maternal way.

"Please, be my avenger, Kerrigan.", Izsha spoke, pleading like a lover. "Please... Be my Puppet Queen..."

Kerrigan didn't even bother with the touch of that Zerg. She was lost in her thoughts to concern with that. But now she was thinking on Izsha's supposed '_offer_'. As Kerrigan had said, she wanted to do it was a Terran. As a normal person, who wouldn't use powers or an army of monsters to bring down the one responsible for her suffering on those four years. She thought of how it'd be with Jim Raynor, the only man she truly loved, as both fought valiantly against the Dominion of the man they helped bring in power, dashing figures of heroism. A fantasy that could not come true now, because of the events of that day. Right now, she had nothing more to live for. She had nothing to hold on to.

But then, at the same time, another light came in mind. The light she now had nothing more to lose. She'd already had lost all she had. And her enemies were willing to savor their victory. The Dominion was indeed strong, but so were the Zerg. They had the power to take down Mengsk and his empire. They had the power to avenge her loved one and finally make the Emperor pay for all he did. He was about to win, 'lest she was forced to compromise. But there was no problem. Now she had nothing more that held her with her race.

And the demand seemed so simple, so easy to accomplish, and one she could use.

Kerrigan got on her feet, away from Izsha's touch, as she took a deep breath in preparation for what she'd say next.

"Only one thing, then... _Izsha_.", spoke Kerrigan, now growing bitterly, as she looked backwards, towards the Zerg advisor. "I go out, I go out for blood. You hear me? Just set me loose in the direction you point... _Then get the hell out of my way_."

Izsha simply smiled.

"Fair enough.", spoke Izsha, triumphant. "Good to have you back, then, '_your Majesty_'. Now you may walk around the Leviathan if you desire so, I won't interrupt you. Just prepare yourself before we begin. And when you want to start, come talk to me. I'll be in the Nerve Center.", she added as she began to recoil and slide backwards, ultimately disappearing into the shadows from which she came out of and outside the chamber. The Zerg strains also began to leave the chamber, as the door maws opened, leading to more and more fleshy corridors of nearly the same height size as the chamber.

Kerrigan was ultimately left alone with her thoughts. Her thoughts of the first day, in Antiga Prime. When she met him.

* * *

_It was a pretty much sunny afternoon in the outside colony, the pastures flowing with the wind breeze of the fields. She'd be smiling if she was in vacation in there. But she wasn't. She had a work to do, waiting on that reach as she kept watch with her scope on that fortified Confederate outpost. The outpost she'd soon have to infiltrate to spark the gunfight that'd end in Antigan victory. The Confederates were stupid to only put so few guards in there, under the command of a moron of a commanding officer, thinking they'd keep that people in check. They were obviously so wrong. The people of Antiga Prime, like many fringe worlds since the destruction of Korhal, had been growing discontent of Confederate rule, even more with the Zerg invasion devastating entire worlds, with the Protoss in hot pursuit, incinerating them. It'd only take a spark to make those people revolt and turn arms in favor of the Sons of Korhal._

_A spark she'd soon fire. But, for now, she had to wait for the said reinforcements Mengsk was telling her it'd arrive. She'd been out of range of Confederate patrols, ready to act if some trouble brewed up. But then, she heard the noise of a motorcycle humming, increasing as she turned around and saw a few people in Marine suits and a strange man on his thirties riding the Vulture hoverbike. A man with mustache and beard and disheveled hair, with a white T-shirt and a black jacket. None of them seemed to be using Confederate army colors, particularly those of Alpha Squadron, whom had been dispatched particularly to that world. Plus, the man's description matched the picture Mengsk had sent to her tactical ocular headset. She'd gotten on her feet to meet this man, picking her trustworthy C-20A rifle._

_"You must be Captain Raynor.", Kerrigan started. "Welcome to Antiga."_

_"Nice to meet you, miss Kerrigan.", Raynor said. "Arcturus told me about you."_

_"I bet he did.", Kerrigan answered, letting out a smirk. "Well, I finished scouting the area, and..."_

_Kerrigan stopped on her tracks as she started seeing images of him with her doing things. Forbidden things. Nasty things._

_"You pig!", shouted Kerrigan, her eyes wide open as her jaw dropped._

_Raynor grew dumbstruck at the sudden comment._

_"Whoa, what- I haven't even said anything to you yet!", exclaimed Raynor, shocked._

_"Yeah, but you were **thinking** it!", Kerrigan said, sarcastically._

_Raynor then wondered what she meant with that. It took a while to realize it, as he covered his eyes with left hand in frustration._

_"Oh, OH!", stuttered Raynor embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, you- you're a telepath. Look, let's just get on with this, ok?"_

_"Right.", Kerrigan answered, smirking. It was time to go to work._

* * *

The memory had ended as Kerrigan simply looked below, to that ground. A tear ran across her right eye.

Now she knew what to do. Now she knew why to do it. But it wasn't about power struggles or ideals anymore. It was something simpler. Something pure.

"For you, Jim...", Kerrigan said, sadly.

"_For us._"

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENT:**_

WTF? _Another long chapter!? _Just checked into the word counter and it was closer to twenty-thousand! Well, that's funny because, compared to the last chapter, this one seemed so small. Must have been the long dialogues and stuff, but, hey, I didn't want to sacrifice quality material too because of file size. Hope you forgive me.

Well, then, now here's where, to quote old Simon, '_the plot thickens_'. I must've been out of my mind when I decided to include the story arc for the people on the Wrath, it seems like I'm playing George R. R. Martin (Y'know, the dude behind the _Game of Thrones_ books), including several story arcs at one chapter. Well, the bad news is, as I long announced, this may be last you'll hear on either Dominion or _Hyperion_, as now the next chapters will be more Zerg-centric. This may give me time to prepare the story arcs for both the crew of the _Wrath _and Nova. I might consult with some people for ideas on how to do this arc, but I'd need to ensure the story follows the course I'd want for the story. For those interested in discussing, please PM me, I don't want to leak spoilers.

Now, two things I wanted to honestly talk about, but I had to wait until this chapter. The first, obviously, are the rant scenes and the fight in the Cantina. People would see those as a bit forced, given the screaming and senseless rant, but I didn't want to leave Mengsk behind. Besides, it was my first time I'd play with his frustration and anger, and I wouldn't waste it not even in a hundred years. I confess I had a bit of fun in both the Cantina fight, especially the Braxton lines, I think he was one of the best jerk OCs I created so far, and by accident instead of actual planning. I also laughed a lot when making the locker room introduction, serious, whom didn't have a first introduction like this? Also, as you may have read, there was a line or two that might have contained a bad word of a racial nature, please, forgive me for it, but it was necessary for the character, I couldn't imagine another name Braxton could provoke Reamer.

Finally, the characters, particularly Izsha. I guess I was one of few whom didn't like her character because she was _empty. _I confess, somehow, since her inception in the alpha preview in May 2011, I was enticed by both look and the uncomfortable, sweet, gleeful voice, which bizarrely, IMO, fit the character. It seemed indeed human, but it seemed evil and, at the same time, trustworthy. I like to call it a Machiavellian look. When it was spoken that Izsha was actually Amanda Haley, a broad whom Kerrigan infested during-post Brood War, I became intrigued, after all, I thought this could give character and motivation that she lacked when HotS was released. The official Izsha was nothing more than an organic adjudant, without much to contribute, showing up there because, hell, why not? Once again, damn you, Metzen. She was one of the driving factors behind the creation of this Fanfic, where I decided to put the Haley background to the test, and, more than that, give her ambition, intelligence, cunning and expertise of her own. After all, Kerrigan made her to be her memory vault, so, why not explore it a bit? Hope you liked the character, sure a few people like Blackhole1 liked. BTW, thanks for those suggestions you PMed, they made the scene a lot more credible than the previous planning.

However, I also noticed there was a change a good chunk of people didn't like. Yeah, it's Abathur I'm talking about. I admit that Abathur was by the far the most worked Zerg character in the official version, but I couldn't fit in the Fanfic. Serious. At least not without considerable changes. Sad, but necessary.

Well, hope you enjoyed it. See you next week, please comment and rant on me for some badly-worked scenes. I'm begging you. xD


	9. Chapter VII - Calm After the Storm

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER VII - CALM AFTER THE STORM**

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, DEEP SPACE**

The echoing of a soft, monotonous humming of the Leviathan, lower than the rocket engines of a Terran Battlecruiser, seemed to sound for what would seem forever. There was no different sound, no music playing, not even screams or feral roar of the beasts the Zerg were. There was only a virtual silence, with the size of the chamber to echo even a small noise, such as the periodic cracks and flesh mingling that erupted in that 'room'.

The room itself did not present the same crimson red mist and lightning generated by the balloon-like orbs spread across the said Zerg vessel. Instead, the light and mist reminded a dim sickening green, giving the floors a strange dark coloring, as with the walls. Flesh and bone-like carapace decorated the chamber, without purpose or aesthetic meaning, pretty much like every corridor or room in the interiors of the beast. Like, the other chambers, this one seemed egg-shaped, although a bit more twisted than the others. Some bridge-like connections, like thick, living webs, decorated the upper sections of this chamber. Slime and drool pretty much covered this particular chamber, even more than the corridors and chambers outside.

However, if there was one thing that made this room different from the others, were the eggs. Not eggs the size of those spurt by chickens or any other earthly avian beings, but Zerg Eggs, of various sizes, that were either as small as an earthly dog or as large as the smallest Terran spacecraft. These eggs were formed of a transparent light green flesh riddled in brown colored veins, each having a sort of teeth-shaped thorns running alongside them. The eggs carried some form of equally green liquid, akin to internal liquids within Terran females during pregnancy. The absurd transparency of the eggs allowed those whom approached them to look through the interiors of what was being birthed. Some were large enough to show the _contents_ of those eggs, large worm-like alien beings swimming around those eggs as new shapes, like limbs, claws, growths, blades or wings gradually grew around them and their appearance slowly changed, either becoming serpentine or having more than two legs. These legs were either animal like or those akin to insects.

There were other eggs, however, different from the majority, those fully encased in scaled carapace, leaving few to no 'orbs' that glowed either yellow or orange, and those had more larger and thicker horns and spikes than the smaller ones. Larger too was the size, meaning that, whatever was forming inside those eggs, it was no good news for the fool or band of fools who'd cross it. Things like the gigantic Ultralisks or other larger Zerg of similar size.

But this chamber was not entirely empty. Hydralisks and Zerglings and other types of Zerg roamed slowly and with a mood too reserved for monsters. They rarely stopped at that room, and those that did seemed to be only standing guard as needed. The others came and left at periodic times. One in particular, was more frequent, with the appearance of an alien manta, scaled bone-like carapace running along it's body, featuring small limbs that served as supports for the fleshy-like tissue connecting one limb to another, like tent canopy, that ended in a tail _too short_ for the menacing Zerg type. The creature's head was alien, encased in pink-red flesh, with six yellow-glowing eyes distributed along the 'face', like a spider of sorts. A small, vertical mouth lied below the face, without any visible nose, with four small jaws that bent inwards horizontally. At random times, this mouth opened, displaying a fleshy, dark purple tongue, a serpentine one. Below the body lied a series of small tendrils and gas orbs this creature doubtlessly used to float around the chamber, granting it the ability to hover a few meters above the ground, but not above enough to fly. The creature beared two crab-like claws, being used either to cut something or carry something. Some of those, in particular, were transporting small eggs. They were Drones. The workforce of the Swarm, meant for menial labor, collecting resources for those who'd use them to form new minions and constructs and set new structures or even Hive Clusters.

In the middle of all the commotion stood Abathur, simply standing still close to a said egg, with the seemingly focused on something. But the thing he was concerned with was a sort of a thin web, like one that Earthly spiders weave in walls and abandoned places. His hands, if those limbs with two or three digits could be called that, had been endlessly manipulating this web, that seemed square shaped. Twisting it, bending it... All the while his vertical mouth and small insectoid mandible jaws had been constantly moving, seeming like he was talking to himself, although quietly and at an alien, almost insectile, language. One who'd firstly see this creature manipulating like that with his web could easily say that was his toy and he was _playing around_ while most of the Zerg went their business. But Abathur never played with this web.

_He worked with it._ He built things with it. He made up mutations, evolutions and even _entire Zerg strains_ by examining that web. That squary web, that contained the genetic strands of the Viper strain Abathur was analyzing. He was finishing the corrections to the biological programming and traits that could not yet be done, since the two available specimens had been taken by Izsha earlier on that mission. He would soon have to add new behaviors and utility to that creature, as Izsha no doubt _wanted_, when the Vipers had brought the vessel carrying the supposed Queen of Blades aboard the Leviathan.

But Abathur did not complain. It was his work. It was his _purpose._ It had ever been his purpose since his inception by the Overmind, the mightiest sentient being and the first and original sovereign of the Zerg Swarm. It had created Abathur with the purpose of developing the continuous cycle of Zerg Evolution while the Overmind and it's agents, the Cerebrates, oversaw great plans inbound. Plans of achieving total and absolute perfection. The purity of form, with the purity of essence. Both in one. The Overmind had granted him a different vision. The vision to see genetic strands, cellular metabolism, and most features of a biological nature. Although, of course, this would mean Abathur would never see the traditional vision granted to many other species, the vision to see colors and shapes and forms. But it was irrelevant. Abathur never needed it. _And he never would._

His work was his life and it was the benefit for the Swarm. It was from his hands that came the first Zerglings, the first Hydralisks, the first Mutalisks and many first Zerg. It was from his hands that they came to become more and more deadly to fight and more and more quicker and easier to replace. The genetic material was the key. Key to not only evolve, but also assimilate other species into the Swarm. The Swarm rarely _created_, only assimilated species encountered on numerous other worlds and whom were deemed worthy of assimilation. The Zz'gashi Dune Runner's speed had become of enough interest for it to be converted into the Zergling. The peaceful and even herbivore Slothien had been corrupted, along with their nests, to become the fearsome, sadistic Hydralisks. Or the Mutalisks, whom were assimilated from the Mantis Screamers in the desolate Dinares Sector. Rarely new, original creations like the Corruptor would be employed.

His work was not interrupted, but noticed when a soft, sweet and distorted female chuckle, one that seemed a quite _victorious_ one, emerged from behind Abathur. He did not have to turn as he knew to whom this chuckle belonged to: A figure revealing a soft shadow of a snake-like being with tentacles for hair made present the floor.

"By your euphoric state, Izsha, I can presume the said Queen of Blades has accepted your offer.", spoke Abathur, deadpan.

"It went _way_ much better than what I have planned.", spoke Izsha, triumphant, behind him as her tail and fifth hair tentacle hanged from one of the holes in the ceiling. "The best of it was that transmission I used, you should've seen it! It seems that idiot Mengsk just signed his death warrant and doesn't even know about it. And now, I have my trump card working for me. And, what's more better: _Out of her own will._"

"Still, it would be unwise to not keep a certain degree of control over her.", Abathur said. "You have explained Terrans can be unpredictable if they wanted so. If this Terran female is the Queen of Blades, as you declared so, why has she not immediately re-assumed command of the Swarm? What can keep her from doing so, thus forsaking your agreement?"

"Because, simply put, _she's not the Queen of Blades anymore_, Abathur.", Izsha answered, smiling at it. "Her initial refusal of the offer, her doubting, her amnesia of her times as her infested self... It's all proof she's only _human_ again. If she were still the Queen of Blades, she'd have ripped off my head for even _daring_ to want to rule the Swarm. No, this one is different. She'll want to leave as soon as our 'deal' is fulfilled in both parts. She'll want me alive to rule the Swarm so she can leave. Just as much as I need her, she _needs_ me. That simple."

"But how can it be so?", Abathur asked. "How can the Queen of Blades simply leave the Swarm, when she was chosen by the Overmind itself to command it? How can she simply simply _abandon_ the Swarm as she delivers command to you?"

"Because this Kerrigan wants to come back as a Terran, Abathur.", Izsha said. "She's simply using us as a means to get her revenge. She doesn't want to stay. She's so... Desperate to get her _humanity_ back, that she won't want to be with us for long. It'd be even noble, were it not _useless_... With her current fame, she won't last one minute without us, and especially without her Raider friends we left behind."

"This may be riskful, Izsha.", Abathur said. "The Terran female can be unreliable without control. If you had allowed me to infest her, as I previously suggested, I could provide that she would submit to your command."

"There is no need.", Izsha said, chuckling. "Not now, at any rate. It'd just take all the fun of the gambling, especially one now I'm sure I won't lose. Besides, if there's something you'll learn, Abathur, if there's a better thing than forcing someone to do her work, it's making her _want_ to do it. And now, I've accomplished it. I can't just imagine how much she'll exceed in the job, especially with all that anger and rage just waiting to be unleashed."

"This 'anger and rage' can also be dangerous, Izsha.", Abathur answered. "It can place our Brood under peril."

"As long as it's directed against Mengsk, I have little to worry about.", Izsha said, all confident. "She's just lost her boyfriend... At least she thinks she lost him. But only I know too well that James Raynor is well and _very much alive._"

Abathur then stopped his work, closing his hands working that web, folding it, as he turned towards Izsha.

"Alive?", asked Abathur. "As in operational?"

"Whichever you prefer.", answered Izsha. "I just heard Mengsk's ranting on his bridge on the White Star, it was hilarious on how pathetic it was. I don't think their crew has yet realized the parasite I slipped in the middle of the battle. Yes, they have Raynor still breathing. As a matter of fact, it'd be much better that way."

"I do not understand.", spoke Abathur. "If the Terran Raynor is alive, then why the Terran Emperor has not disposed of him? You have stated before that this Terran was a threat to all Zerg. Would it not be better to have him destroyed, for this threat to never occur again?"

"It's not so simple as it looks, Abathur, it's never been with us, Terrans.", Izsha explained. "Mengsk is everything, but never an _imbecile_. He knows killing Raynor for real will be the same as slitting his own throat. He doesn't want Kerrigan furiously _storming_ his doorstep when she gathers a huge army, he'll want a bargaining chip to help keep her in check when things get too dicey. Not to mention that making him a martyr will incite open rebellion on his remaining worlds, whom, behind the propaganda and false impression of loyalty, see Raynor for what they think he is: A liberator, not a terrorist. Smaller nations have lost even much more because of government-made martyrs, it's the stimulant for anger the people so love. As for that transmission, it's obvious he broadcasted it with the sole purpose of _teasing_ her, provoking her to want to jump into a fight as soon as possible, so he can get her, and us, while she's weak. Fortunately... I'm there to not allow it. At least, not in the current condition our Swarm is. If Mengsk will be waiting for a hasty and imbecile advance on his fronts in Korhal, I say he'll be waiting for a _long time_."

"But... Would it not be beneficial to tell her?", Abathur asked. "Increase her motivation to-"

"_Are you mad!?_", interrupted Izsha, whom became suddenly upset at the question. "The moment she learns her boyfriend is still alive, she'll want to run off in a rescue attempt, perhaps break the deal and desert us entirely later! Now that I won't have! Jim Raynor has been killed and this story will remain that way! And, if you value your life and your work, _you will keep the secret_!"

"If you then wish to maintain this a secret, why informing me, then?", asked Abathur. "Would it not be best to maintain the secret to yourself?"

"Because, Abathur, _unlike other people I met_, and this includes our third crewmember, you know when to keep your mouth _shut_!", censored Izsha, starting to lower herself down to the ground and . "Only later, _much later_, she can know about it. At least, before I actually decide to put strings on the puppet, once I have my Swarm and she has the Dominion in ashes. I trust you'll won't spill a word about this... _My friend_?"

"I cannot speak such things, Izsha.", Abathur said. "At the least, not until I am asked of."

"I'll take as a yes.", Izsha said. "Because, if something goes wrong, you won't be the only Zerg _ripped apart_ in the joint."

* * *

**HYPERION ACCESS HALL F**  
**FIVE HOURS SINCE THE BATTLE FOR VERHOEVEN**

The corridors of the _Hyperion_, pretty much like every Battlecruiser, even the newest ones in the Koprulu Sector, were the same distorted octogonal shape, distorted so it'd look like a beveled triangle. The metal floors were always divided in four dark-gray plates, who'd run endlessly from one point to another or connect with an intersection. Close to the floor, on the diagonal lowered beveled sections, orange LED lights, shaped like directional arrows, barely illuminated the floor, generating enough lightning for people to see it. The side walls beared either energy cables and pipelines, that conducted energy from the ship's reactor to through out the ship, or vent shafts that provided a minimum of ventilation. The upper side walls were the ones that provided some degree of illumination, as every wall had a small rectangular fluorescent light bulb. The roof itself had not much to offer.

These corridors were commonly accessed by about every people whom lived, slept and worked on the Battlecruiser, from the common ship mechanic to the ship Captain, Matt Horner, himself. Many of the times they came alone, bringing only their bodies, but there were also times when they were moving some sort of heavy cargo, be it in piles of crates, hardware for either vehicles or ships or even caged Zerg specimens, forcing the people in the corridor clear way for those pushing the cargo to pass. At least, that was how it was supposed to be for Horner, as he crossed one such corridor.

But it was entirely _crowded_ with people, those on their feet and standing by the walls of the corridors or sit in there, sometimes blocking the walkable path of those coming across. Men and women, wearing lab coats, monkey suits or officer or pilot suits. Uniforms wearing the Dominion Shield, stitched in their uniform. Men and women of the _Bucephalus_. Horner had been bypassing time and again the sitting men and women simply waiting there, all cleaned and on the wait, with sorrowful expression, going carefully so he wouldn't hurt anyone by accident or trip to the already cluttered ground. The news had just come in minutes after that mess in the Cantina. The _Bucephalus_ was a lost cause. The damage done to the ship's engines, especially after the Zerg had entered the battle, had ensured that the only repairs that could return the engines to an operating state could be performed at an shipyard or with a repair force that Valerian's men did not have. They had left those crews on Char after they got the Queen of Blades, otherwise, the Dominion Fleet would have intercepted the _Bucephalus_ and _Hyperion_ before they could warp away. Then, there were the life support systems, that began to fail on the Prince's Cruiser, not to mention the radioactive reactor leak, that would kill all crewmembers slowly and painfully aboard.

Those men and women couldn't count on the Dominion fleet too, not after what happened today. They all signed their death warrants the moment they fought side-to-side with the_ Hyperion_ when the fleet attacked. If the _Bucephalus_ crew were rescued, doubtless they'd executed, or worse, _tortured_ in hopes the men under Mengsk would get so much desired information. Particularly, information of either the Raiders' whereabouts or Kerrigan's. They ignored the _Bucephalus_ cries to stand down, claiming that Prince Valerian was inside the facility, but they just kept on firing, like if his father did not _care._

It seemed the Emperor was determined to get Kerrigan by any means, even if it meant_ getting rid of his own son._ His son, whom he considered the greatest failure. It looked like Arcturus Mengsk wanted someone just like him, someone who'd make his own fate, even if it meant _stepping on the head_ of each and every man and woman in his path and committing literal _atrocities_ to achieve his goals of power. Someone whose stubborn, cruel and authoritarian methods would mean the downfall, not only of him, but also of every world that _depended_ on the protection the Dominion could provide. _A protection that did not exist_. The Dominion was much alike, sometimes _worse_, than it's predecessor, the Confederacy. They violently repressed civil rights and enforced military rule, especially on fringe worlds. They censored the media and controlled the delivery of news and even educational programs through out the Sector. They left the fringe worlds to their own luck when the Zerg invaded, even if it cost resources and manpower the Dominion could use.

As if it wasn't enough to have to carry the refugees from the also lost Verhoeven research facility, now the Hyperion was overcrowded with former crewmembers. And the Raiders' cruiser was not on a surplus terms concerning food supplies or living roomspace. At least, not everything was bad news. The warp engines were close to being repaired and no other damage or sign of the Dominion fleet was heard of. Maybe the fleet was still executing repairs, perhaps even rescuing survivors from Battlecruisers that giant Leviathan fell. Still, their luck would eventually run out. The sooner they could warp out of Phaeton and head to Haven, where Horner said they'd drop the Umojan personnel, the better.

His steps stopped when he reached a side door of the corridor, which he sled a circle, shaped somewhat like a door handle, and then the door's halves sled aside, opening it, revealing the Cantina. Unlike last time, when Reamer and Braxton contributed to _redecorate_ the area, it was now straightened up and organized, the ripped-off circular metal tables put and welded back into their respective places. The chairs had also been put back, as did the new bottles in the bar, where a man with black hair and blue eyes was scrubbing it. Horner noticed the Cantina had been empty, save for a figure on one of the tables, below the luminary with the Jukebox and television, holding a glass of some liquor and a bottle. A blond, male figure wearing golden wolf head shaped shoulder pauldrons and a red cape hanging on his back. Horner decided to approach him.

"Never thought you were a man of drinking, Valerian.", commented Horner to the Crown Prince.

"I'm not.", Valerian said, deadpan, but seemingly sad. "At least not mostly."

Horner approached and picked a chair for him to sit on the same table that Valerian was, wanting to talk to him face-to-face.

"Funny.", Horner commented. "The way you're sitting, holding the glass and looking at it... You remember Jim. You're sitting on his former place too."

Valerian simply stared at Horner, then started to move, meaning to leave the table.

"Whoa, wait!", spoke Horner, trying to intervene. "I- I didn't mean to _offend_!"

Valerian let out a sigh, but then returned to the table. He picked the liquor bottle, obviously malt, and started pouring a bit more on his glass.

"What's this one for?", asked Horner. "Jim and Kerrigan? Or your ship?"

A brief pause occurred, as if Valerian was considering his choice.

"Take a pick.", Valerian answered, taking a sip.

"You know this wasn't your fault, Valerian.", Horner spoke, trying to lift the Prince's spirits. "None of it was it."

"Really?", Valerian spoke, frowning his forehead. "I don't remember who else made that call-"

"_Stop it right there, mister_!", censored Horner, suddenly firm. "You couldn't have known if Narud ran off with his mouth or if they forced him to! And the last thing I'm needing is you drowning in malt and self-pity while the crew needs you now more than ever!"

"Need in what?", Valerian asked, raising his head to face Horner. "I don't know what to do now, especially without a _ship_! We're pretty much useless the way we are, cluttering the Hyperion like homeless people or something."

"But that doesn't mean you can't lead them anymore, Valerian.", Horner answered. "Those people are now counting on you to make decisions who'll decide if they'll come back home or not. We're pretty much on the same boat, you and I, so the best you can do is saddle up and help me out through the ride."

"But, Horner, I'm...", started Valerian, hesitating. "_I'm just a public figurehead_. A baby cheek kisser. Just a person whom appears to receive praise or flak for the deeds of others. That and an archaeologist, someone whom just likes to dig through alien ruins. I'm not saying I don't know about military strategy or anything, I've always had someone instructing me thanks to my father, it's just that... I wouldn't know how to apply it in a stress situation, do it on the field or even know what to do when _everything is falling around me_! I doubt I'd even be able to withstand the pressure, not like Raynor actually does."

What Horner never knew, however, was that Valerian wasn't _exactly_ telling the truth. The young Prince have had been in combat situations, both on the ground, when his father came to pick him up and he was forced to execute a woman whom tried to kill him on Umoja, an old Confederate Captain, Angelina Emillian, whom happened to instruct Arcturus on his days in the Confederate Marine Corps. An event that cost the life of Valerian's combat instructor. Then, came all that confusion relating his archeology expedition, his best hired archaeologist, Jacob Ramsey, and his hired mercenary leader, Rosemary Dahl, in a story that even Valerian's father had a meddle in it. But Valerian always thought he was _lucky_ in getting him and his crew off that event with his head still glued, especially one that even the Zerg and a powerful Protoss Dark Archon had entered the thick of it, in which old secrets of the Protoss and even powers beyond human comprehension were at stake.

"Well, Jim never attended a command academy, either.", Horner said. "But his commanding was what kept us alive so far. I'm not saying you can't make mistakes, Valerian, I'm sure you will along the road. What matters is if you'll rise when you're down and learn from them."

"Including what I did?", asked Valerian. "That '_screw-up_', as Braxton himself said it?"

"Braxton is a _jerk_, Valerian.", Horner answered, firmly. "From what I learned from Stratton, he likes getting up on people. That idiot is just a clear example that you can't please anyone, Valerian, no matter how much good you'll do, something you'll learn concern leadership."

Valerian smirked at the comment. Seemingly, Horner was no trained politician either, but he seemed to know what he was talking about.

"It's funny...", Valerian started, slowly. "I always wondered I'd come to leadership after some time. After some crowning ceremony, succeeding my father and spending a whole, peaceful day in doubt on what to do and how to rule my newly-earned empire. But I wasn't ready for this. When I have to decide, here and now, what to do and how to do it."

"I don't think you can choose to step out now, Crown Prince.", Horner said. "Besides, those men in the corridors would never follow my orders. Somehow... I think you'll do fine, Valerian."

"I doubt it.", Valerian answered, seemingly recovering some of his quasi-sober state. "I always tried to prove myself a better man. Different from my father. Now I don't see how much different I am, especially after this."

"I beg to differ.", Horner said. "I don't think you're like Arcturus."

"How can you be sure?", asked Valerian. It was when Horner leaned over, coming closer to him.

"Valerian.", Horner started. "If you were like your father, you'd have fooled us, betrayed us or held us on Char until he arrived. If you were like your father, you'd have _lied_ about the artifact and led us to a deathtrap. Instead, you brought Kerrigan back as a human, led us away and even _helped us_ in trying to breach the blockade. If anyone asked me, I'd say right here and right now you're very different. And I doubt you'd become different when you assume leadership and deliver the people the freedom they deserve."

"You're overestimating me, Horner.", Valerian said. "I even doubt I can deliver the people a free, better future, with the situation it is now."

"_You have to, Valerian_!", Horner insisted. "Your father promised that, but he became no better than the Old Families he sought to overthrow!"

"But you're saying it like if you're relying on me to deliver something I _just can't give_!", Valerian replied back, firmly. "It's not that I don't want people to live free, unlike what my father wants, I really do, but it's not so simple, _especially now_! There is a literal war happening out there, Horner. And in times of war, people will always look to those who can protect or save them, regardless if it's a free government or not! I know how much you want to take down my father and his government along with it, but doing it wrong will fracture any chance we may have of gathering enough strength to protect those people."

"Still, the people wouldn't like that the throne changed, but the Dominion remained.", Horner insisted. "Even more that all they'll see is one Mengsk traded for another. That is the problem of bearing the most unpopular name these days."

"One you've seen to it, with your broadcast in Augustgrad.", Valerian argued.

"The people had to know what your beloved _'daddy'_ was capable of!", protested Horner in defense. "He had this coming ever since Tarsonis!"

"I know.", spoke Valerian, seemingly not in a mood to discuss with Horner. "How he used the Emitters, how he left Kerrigan behind, everything."

Horner simply widened his eyes in surprise. The Hyperion captain didn't account for Valerian to have knowledge of what really occurred.

"How... _How did you know_? Did your father tell you?", asked Horner. Valerian, however, remained silent. "Did he _really_ tell you? _Even the details_?", he asked further, but Valerian just remained silent. "Never imagined he'd be that cruel..."

"He always told it something that had to be done.", Valerian spoke, bitterly. "I personally didn't bought it. Even so, your broadcast, even if it had some 'good intention', has only made things more complicated. The military is now being hard-pressed, with both containing threats from the outside and being forced to contain revolts every single day! Were not for their debts to my father for favors they asked, our allies in both Umoja and Moria would've left us hanging to dry. And only Mother Mercy knows how much we could use them in the coming conflict."

"Funny.", Horner said, sarcastically. "With your naive Prince Charming look, I never took you for having thick skin for politics."

"_Tell me about it_!", Valerian answered, his eyes rolling. "Those snakes, especially the Kel-Morians, would crawl up your neck and send shivers at every turn for free, making you scared for months on end. Compared to them, my father looks like a saint."

"I doubt it.", Horner said. "They'd never use the Zerg to invade other worlds and kill billions."

"They never got the opportunity.", spoke Valerian, taking another sip of his malt-filled glass. "Still, if my father falls while we're still at war, we'll need those allies. Especially if Kerrigan ends up what I fear it'll be."

The thought had then come up on Horner's mind with the speed of a lightning bolt, making his face become one of worry. The Zerg. And how they got Kerrigan.

"Do you think it might happen, Valerian?", Horner asked. "Kerrigan becoming infested again and leading the Zerg?"

"I don't know.", Valerian answered. "But I fear that we may have to_ kill her_ if she starts going on a killing spree."

"Raynor won't like it, Valerian.", Horner protested, although not shouting or holding his firm tone.

"I don't think we'll have a choice, this time.", Valerian said, staring at him. "And I don't think the Xel'Naga artifact would help again, either."

Suddenly, the doors to the Cantina opened near them, revealing a new figure, a male figure in black officer suit, much like Horner. He was also wearing the same shoulder pauldrons as him. He seemed young, somewhat in his twenty-five to thirty years. He beared a recently cut brown hair, military styled, along with blue eyes.

"Prince Valerian, Captain Horner.", spoke the young, Captain-dressed figure, named Everett Vaughn. "I was told you both were present here."

"What is it, Vaughn?", asked Valerian, straight to the point.

"The Chief Engineer reports engines are operational, warp core is online and ready to go.", Vaughn replied.

"About time!", Horner said in relief, getting on his feet and heading to the access door. "Inform the bridge to set course for Haven and already warp. I'll be headed there."

Horner, however, simply stopped on his tracks as he remembered something. The Prince and the Dominion personnel aboard. He turned around to look at Valerian.

"Do you mind if I ask you to remain here?", Horner asked. "At least, until after I've talked to Doctor Hanson? She might notice you on the bridge and not appreciate your company."

"I'm not going anywhere.", spoke Valerian. "Just have your bartender put the malt away."

Horner simply nodded to the scrubbing barkeeper, Cooper, whom was looking at him. Horner then turned around and left the bridge. The barkeeper left his station to pick the glass and bottle from Valerian's table as Vaughn approached his table and sit down, occupying Horner's former chair.

"Never thought I'd be here, out of all places.", commented Vaughn. "Heard many stories about it. The infamous former flagship of the revolution, now a buccaneer vessel."

Valerian, however, remained silent.

"Do you think this will be our new home, sir?", Vaughn asked.

"With everything that is happening, Vaughn...", Valerian answered. "The Hyperion is the only home we have _left_."

* * *

Attention people focused on one, be it men or women, at most of the times could as discomforting if not intended so, like in an award delivery. Eyes prying on a person at all times, the paranoic feeling that someone or something is watching your every move, this robs people of their security.

On Sarah Kerrigan's case, this was quite _explicit_. Especially because of the fact she was walking the fleshy interiors of an alien monster, an environment not suited for humans, with yellow eyes looking at her at every turn as she passed by. Eyes of Zerg beasts, of most shapes and sizes. She never liked that. She never liked people looking at her. It all started with her _gift_, her powers that brought her to that point. Everywhere she went, everywhere she did, there were eyes looking. Eyes interested in her every move. Every time she looked at a Zerg beast and it looked back at her, even a strain as harmless as a Drone, her spine sent a shiver to her neural cortex. She just wished she could walk alone, a prize granted to so few in a position so high as leadership, but she couldn't have that. Those eyes kept looking at her, along with feral expressions. Some were smoothed out, but the others displayed their teeth and drooled, like mad dogs on the verge of attacking their prey. Attacks that would never come. Those beasts, despite looking all feral and beastly, would never attack her. They'd never attack their Queen. Their Puppet Queen.

'_Dammit, Sarah, what the hell you got yourself into?_', she thought, as she walked and noticed yet another Hydralisk and a pair of Zerglings staring at her. '_Making a deal with the devil? I must be out of my mind to do it, even if it means it'll bring Mengsk down! And spurting a movie one-liner? Yeah, right! What a first nice going!_'

For a couple of hours and times she walked endlessly on those corridors, many times feeling lost on so many rows and chambers, some of the same size and shape, although with few changes in either width or length. Some of those chambers seemed to be resting places for Zerg beasts, where they could be found easily lying down, like if something important was going to happen at any moment and they were waiting for it. One of the chambers she walked into displayed enormous green-colored orbs, all connected through flesh tubes reminding some sort of an umbilical cord, with holes letting out some green steam. The quasi-toxic reeking air had made Kerrigan immediately leave the chamber. After all, nothing was as more toxic or explosive, even for Terrans and Zerg, as Vespene Gas. And the chamber must have been a processing site for such Gas.

Vespene was pretty much a common resource found on the worlds of the Koprulu Sector, and a resource practically the three species vied and_ fought for_. Terrans needed it for fossile energy source and fuel for high-performance machines, even heavy ones like the gigantic Thor, or even spaceships. The Protoss, despite looking all powerful and capable of driving entire machinery with their minds, needed the Vespene Gas as catalyst to power their machinery, which they operated it through psionic potential. The Zerg, however, it could be told they were the species that most used this resource, even more than Terrans themselves. They used the gas to accelerate the metabolism of nourishing Zerg specimens and even serve as a research catalyst for new evolutions and mutations. They used the gas to form the infamous balloon-like gas orbs that provided a dim lightning and kept air strains like Overlords, Mutalisks and Corruptors flying. They even used the Vespene Gas properties as a method of developing and mass-producing viral agents, bile and acids the Zerg were infamous for employing.

Another sort of chamber Kerrigan encountered was pretty much void, except for some large circular mouths full of teeth on the walls, which were chewing repeatedly some sort of blue-colored crystal, only to spit or even regurgitate them in the ground. Then, came some sort of alien worm-like extension, that grabbed the larger crystal chunks to then toss them savagely to those mouths, who'd chew them repeatedly, for days on end, without any visible sign of fatigue or even slowing in the chew. As the crystals got literally disintegrated in much smaller chunks and spit, they came coated wet in drool and saliva, somehow making Kerrigan nauseous. Just as that chamber seemed to be related to processing Vespene Gas, this, Kerrigan thought, should be a processing facility for raw minerals, another common resource found not only in the Koprulu Sector, but across the outside space as well. Asteroids, planet surfaces, mountains and even underground veins contained vast, unexplored quantities of this precious mineral, that Terrans and Protoss extracted, processed and melted down for the creation of all sorts of armored metal plating, from starship hulls and vehicles to personal armor, such as is the case with the CMC-300 Powered Combat Suit. The Zerg, however had their necessities with minerals far greater as well as with the Vespene Gas: It was from those minerals that the most resistant carapace the Swarm could prepare was. Not only the carapace, but stronger jaws, blades, claws, spikes and thorns had also their share of the extracted Mineral. The crystal, when extracted and processed by the Zerg, was then dissolved through a special acid that is infused within Zerg Eggs or other constructs according to need.

Kerrigan, seeing there was nothing much to look at this chamber, stepped out then and started proceeding forward again. The corridor, however, ended up closed as the fleshy 'door', unlike the others that opened when Kerrigan stepped close to them, remained closed. Even as Kerrigan touched it with her left hand, in which she could see the drool and mucus wet the digits of her suit glove, this door didn't open. She wanted to use her powers to force the way open, but then she realized the Medusa-like Zerg called Izsha would somehow notice and then she'd not last longer inside the Leviathan.

'_Hmm..._', Kerrigan thought, as she turned around to leave and backtrack her steps. '_For this to be closed shut, it's either something really important or something that's not good. Not for me, at least._'

The backtracking and exploration part, at least for Kerrigan, was not boring, but also it was bothering her. If only Izsha had told her where and how she'd get to the said 'Nerve Center', which Kerrigan presumed, was the _bridge_ of the ship, she would have got straight to business earlier. No doubt it had something to do with her past, obviously they were trying to make her remember in hopes of prying her back. Kerrigan wouldn't have any of that. She made to herself a promise she wouldn't have anything to do with the Zerg or, especially, her times as the Queen of Blades. And this promise she'd accomplish, no matter the cost. The faster she could get that Izsha her Swarm and storm the Dominion and leave, the better. No doubt Kerrigan's supposed 'rescuer' had plans for her. Plans that would make certain Kerrigan wouldn't be away for long.

Suddenly, a side door opened it's maw as it revealed a chamber Kerrigan had not seen yet. A chamber that was dark, more dark than the corridors outside, or even the other chambers, but it was reeking of a dim, green mist, much more weaker than what she found in the Vespene Gas chamber. It was also breathable, although the aroma was not something pleasurable either, smelling rotten eggs and organic garbage. She saw dozens, maybe hundreds of egg-shaped forms in multiple sizes and spread across the floor of this chamber, as well as some stuck in walls. Formats that displayed a transparent green flesh, filled with liquid and riddled with veins with thorns. Zerg Eggs. Doubtless it was their on-board Hatchery.

But it wasn't empty. Truth be told, out of most chambers and corridors, this one was the most occupied and busy of them all, with a workforce of Drones lifting transportable eggs across the chamber. But there were also other types, such as Zerglings, Hydralisks and Zerg of a third, different kind. This third kind more of reminded a turtle figure with insectoid legs, like those of a spider. The turtle metaphor could be explained because of the abnormally thick brown carapace it's body was lifting, even more thick than those found in Hydralisks. This carapace was riddled in curved, equally thick horns spread across the carapace plates, each one tethering above one another, even a small one that seemed like a helmet to the small, yet monstrous head, one whose look seemed cuter than the others, but still equally vicious. This creature featured two large limbs, doubtless with the shape of thick scythes, with carapaces on their tip, doubtless for defense in close combat. Although Kerrigan did not recognize this strain, her former infested self would call it a Roach, a new strain introduced in the beginning of the Second Great War, adapted from the fast healing Zantar Slug of Garrxax. Not only it's fast healing properties, but also the fact the acid saliva it spilled could penetrate through armored Neosteel made it a primordial addition to the Swarm. She saw one of those strains as it backed off from a smaller creature, one that reminded an earthly shrimp. A creature Kerrigan instantly recognized.

It was that Zerg she met moments before Izsha entered the scene. One that spoke in a deep-pitched, monotonous male voice, akin to a _computer_, analyzing her physical condition previously.

Kerrigan wanted to just leave the scene and move on, but at the same time she seemed _enticed_ by the creature. This was because the same shape that creature had appeared time and again on her dreams and memories, exactly from moments preceding her infestation. Maybe it had something to do with it, maybe not. Unfortunately, in the battle that proceeded between her reasonable self, ordering to just move on and find Izsha, and her emotional one, which tempted her to look further, maybe talk to this creature, her emotional side got the best of her.

'_Well... Doesn't hurt delaying a bit longer._', Kerrigan thought, as she entered the chamber, approaching the creature. '_It's not like it's going to eat me or something..._'

As she entered and slowly walked towards it, she then noticed she'd have to make up something. Doubtless it would not like her presence here, meaning she'd have to either leave or make up an excuse. Her creative part of her mind worked overclock as she approached the creature with a mix of curiosity and worry, making an effort to control her breath and rushing blood adrenaline.

Then, the creature turned around, noticing it heard bipedal steps behind it. The eyes simply overlooked Kerrigan deadpan, along with it's bizarrely shaped 'mouth', as she stopped her tracks and looked at the creature with a nervous look. The creature did not change it's expression, however.

"Now, the Terran comes.", the creature spoke. "I recommend you to leave. I do not wish to have problems with Izsha."

Kerrigan swallowed her throat dry as her mind worked even faster to make up some sort of answer.

"Actually...", Kerrigan started, anxious. "She told me to... come by and visit you... _Aba-far_, isn't it?"

"My name is Abathur.", the creature said. "And who are you, Terran?"

Kerrigan began to sweat coldly, but, accidentally, an answer came out of her mind.

"I'm... the Queen of Blades.", she lied. "Don't you... _recognize me_?"

A small silence occurred, as she waited for an answer.

"I am afraid I cannot.", Abathur finally answered. Kerrigan's mind started to calm down.

"Well... I thought my _hair_ should've given you a clue, by now.", Kerrigan said, not hesitating and not so nervous as before, but still in those conditions.

"I was not awarded the traditional vision granted to other species in my creation, by the Overmind itself.", Abathur said. "While others see formats and shapes and colors, I can only see blood cells, genetic material, levels of evolution. And, given your genetic status is actually more Terran than Zerg... Perhaps this is the reason I cannot recognize you."

Kerrigan frowned at the explanation, a bit surprised as well.

"Damn...", she said. "Reckon it must be a pretty unhappy life for you. At least it's better than mine, I think."

"I was actually created to perform my function and nothing more.", Abathur said. "I do not feel emotion, I do not have need, I do not think. All I have is my knowledge of the Zerg genetic material."

"You don't feel anything at all?", Kerrigan asked, curiously. "Not even fear? Or sorrow, or something?"

"The only fear within me is that of losing my purpose.", Abathur answered. "Without my purpose, I am nothing. And nothing lasts so little within the Swarm."

Somewhere, inside Kerrigan, a small spark of pity grew on that creature. A spark she decided to ignore, at least for now. She couldn't fall for it at the time.

"Izsha says that what you lack in social behavior you make up for your work.", Kerrigan started. "What is it?"

"I am responsible for altering and modifying existing Zerg strains, be it in a minor mutation or a complete evolution.", Abathur answered. "However, if I am delivered an entirely different genetic code, I can devise an entirely new warrior strain."

'_Some sort of classic weird evil scientist, then._', Kerrigan thought.

"And what can you do with those strains?", Kerrigan asked.

"All sorts of adaptations possible, according to needs.", Abathur explained. "Be it to adapt to the environment, improve movement speed or attack ferocity of minions, increase regeneration rates, reproduction rate or numbers, everything can be performed. The time may depend, however, but the evolution is certainly delivered and it is absolutely beneficial. It can even benefit yourself."

That last statement had suddenly caught Kerrigan, as her heart beating increased the acceleration.

"What are you talking about?", she asked, nervous.

"Your current state is fragile.", Abathur answered. "Vulnerable. It is not fit for tolerance to high-speed shifts nor for fast physical regeneration in combat situations. Your current state is not able of re-assessing your full psionic potential. Additional improvements must be done to achieve your maximum potential."

Suddenly, Abathur started crawling forward_ towards_ Kerrigan, as he opened his arms and menacingly directed his limbs, all of them, at her. Her eyes slowly widened in fear as the fear inside grew at the same proportion.

"If you may allow...", Abathur said. "I can aid you in this."

Kerrigan's instincts took control of her as she stepped a bit backwards.

"I...", Kerrigan said, with anxiety, as her arms denoted her nervous expression. "I think I'm just_ fine_ as I am."

Suddenly, Abathur stopped his tracks. He didn't do anything, as he simply looked at Kerrigan. Kerrigan also remained there, looking nervous as well.

'_Oh, shit._', she thought. '_That's it, I offended him!_'

"But...", Kerrigan started, hesitating. "_Thanks... for asking?_"

Abathur simply lowered his limbs and returned his hands to a safe distance. Safe, in Kerrigan's terms, meant close to his 'body'.

"I do not understand...", Abathur started. "If you are the Queen of Blades... would you not wish to return to your former appearance?"

Kerrigan became nervous and anxious by the minute, something that did not fit her, as she tried to tell creature the answer about the offer.

"With all due respect... _I don't want to_.", answered Kerrigan, nervous. "Nothing against it, I mean, but... limbs and fangs just don't make my_ style_ anymore."

"Style is irrelevant.", Abathur answered. "The primary concern is functionality. Not only biological, but also psionic. Functionality that the infestation process can improve."

"Please, just... _don't insist_, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, very nervous, trying to stop his attempt to come closer to her. "These times are long gone. If I... _ever_ need you to do something with me... I'll ask you about it."

A moment of silence went on before Abathur finally backtracked himself.

"As commanded.", he said, turning then around, shifting attention to the egg he was working on.

Kerrigan seemed relieved, but held her breath as she couldn't give a clue, especially to that... _thing._

"I'll...", Kerrigan started, hesitating as she slowly turned around. "I'll be leaving, then."

"As you desire, my Queen.", Abathur said, deadpanned, but he did not turn around to see Kerrigan leaving hastily the chamber. As she crossed the barrier of the supposed door, she simply looked at it when the fleshy parts finally closed. As they tucked shut tight, Kerrigan finally let out that breath she held in relief. That was a close one.

'_Dammit, Sarah, what were you thinking? Were you thinking at all!?_', she thought, as she held her back on one of the fleshy walls. '_That thing nearly layed it's 'hands' on you! Look, just find the damn bridge and get this whole mess done with, alright!?_'

It was when she started to walk again, on her quest to find her new 'employer'.

It was one of those days.

And this one was already setting itself to be a long one.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

_Afternoon loomed on the horizon as the winds shifted time and again on that brown, barren world. Brown dirt, brown rocks, even brown brambles. The wind current was strong and firm since she and her team first arrived to that god-forsaken place, almost getting dirt into everyone's eyes. The horizon seemed riddled with crags and spiky brown mountains, all barren and cracked with the lack of water and the passing of time with no rain, whatsoever._

_Suddenly, a huge, fierce yellow gloom bursted out as a massive mushroom covered the mountain in flames, spreading to the plateau and lower ground below. A nuclear blast, which engulfed the area and, hopefully, those living in it. The ground trembled in the violence of the explosion as a shimmer moved from the ground she lied down and started running away. If the blast had caught all those Zerg, it was good. If not, it wouldn't matter, now there wasn't enough Zerg to actually threaten the mission. They could be shot down and the mission accomplished._

_At least, that's what Nova Terra thought as she ran across the barren fields of that forsaken planet, far from the Core Worlds of the Koprulu Sector. The job that got her to that place, along with her team. A rescue mission. Remainders of the Old Families, the elite of the Confederacy, had been cowering in that in hiding since the Zerg had invaded and destroyed their seat of power, their military commands, their favored skyscrapers. Unfortunately, the Zerg had given chase, forcing them to desperately call for rescue during days on end. Despite the fact they could reunite resources for a resistance attempt, if given the chance, Dominion command had decided to retrieve those personnel in help. Only four people. Four people that the Zerg were after, and, for that, they employed an entire complement of Hatcheries. Somewhat close to overkill, if not literally._

_She continued to run down, towards a mountain set, that was filled with abandoned equipment. Abandoned mining equipment. Old crates, cracked open, were spread on the outside of the circular, apparently man-made cave, that people entered to mine the contents within. Abandoned vehicles also decorated the outsides, and were being used by the people defending it for cover, doubtless against the lethal type of ranged Zerg the Hydralisk was. People not only wearing red clad CMC-300 suits, but also people in tight environmental suits, with C-20A rifles firing and sniping targets of opportunity. But there wasn't much to snipe when there were literal batallions of Zerg bullrushing to the firing line, hoping to reach it closer to take on the Terran aggressors head-on._

_She continued to move on, cloaked, as she noticed large, sac-like creatures with legs hovering mid-air. Creatures that held large orbs on their sides._

_'Overlords. Great...', Nova thought, apprehensive, as she continued to run towards the abandoned mining site. That thought was made on the fact that Overlords possessed a strong sensitive system, a courtesy of their complex neural pathways woven throughout their bodies, combined with their insectile antennae, that allowed them to see and discover everything and anything around them. Even the smallest microbe could not escape the Overlord's sight. Even things cloaking themselves from the sight of natural eyes, like Ghosts or Wraiths. Like Nova._

_She continued her run as she finally arrived at the mining camp, still cloaked and unharmed. Her luck, as the Overlords must have not arrived closer to discover her cloaked signature. The blue energy current ran along her body as she made herself revealed, taking cover behind a stack of crates and triggering her C-20A, starting to open fire with the other Marines and Ghosts firing at her. One of them, which was close, took notice of her presence._

_"'Bout fekkin' time, lady!", shouted the Marine squad leader, as he kept on unleashing the bursts of his C-14 in an incoming cluster of Zerglings, rushing forward. "Did it work?"_

_"Hatcheries are cooking!", Nova shouted back, amidst the tension of battle. "Where's the extraction?"_

_"Cyrus picked up a second Hatchery cluster!", spoke a nearby female voice, belonging to a ghost with a mix of African-american with Hawaiian traits. She helt a long, trended ponytail as she fired her rifle, one different from the one Nova carried, besides a male ghost that also bore African-american traits, like his rastafari hair. Some unknown to the situation could easily say they formed a couple. "They are going to bomb it, then head to pick us up!"_

_"How long?", Nova asked, as she fired her C-20A, managing to shoot down two or three Zerglings._

_"Five minutes, maybe more!", the female ghost answered back._

_"Five minutes!?", shouted a male voice, belonging to another Ghost, one bearing a look not fit for military standards, with a long brown hair and mustache. "Against that!?", he added, motioning his head towards the waves of Zerg incoming as he shot a round towards an incoming Hydralisk, wounding it but not killing it. He fired again, managing to perform a kill this time._

_"What the!?", another female voice cried out, a girly one, belonging to a Ghost of the same appearance, her face appearing as cute and young at the same time. "The Cyrus!"_

_Suddenly, they looked upwards in the air until every person saw the figure of a massive hammerhead figure falling down the sky. The figure was in literal flames as it descended with an ever-increasing speed towards the ground._

_"Great! Just great!", spoke another female voice, a gruff one, this time, that belonged to another female ghost, this time a Caucasian one with redhair. "And we're running low on ammo!"_

_"Can it, Okyl!", said a male voice, belonging to an Asian-looking person. "The hell we do!?"_

_"We go and meet them!", spoke the male African-American, with a Jamaican accent. "They're our way home!"_

_"We can't just go, Tosh!", the girly Ghost spoke again. "There's too many of them!"_

_"Flame on, then, Delta!", 'Tosh' shouted. "Burn them damn monsters!"_

_Suddenly, the cute Ghost girl stepped forwards, dropping her rifle. She seemed to be on stress, as she focused on something that would happen. Then, a huge explosion, out of nowhere, bursted into the air, engulfing the advancing Zerglings and Hydralisks in flames. The carapace and bodies of the creatures literally burned as they agonized in pain, allowing the Marines and Ghosts to open fire and end their misery. That was her best of powers. The power of pyrokinesis. Of course, followed only by her precognition abilities._

_"Way to go, Delta!", spoke a snazzy male voice, belonging to a bald, thin, male Ghost._

_"Let's move! Bring in them targets, Travski!", Tosh shouted._

_"On it!", spoke the bald on, retreating from his cover, behind an abandoned vehicle, as he headed towards the mine. Nova looked through the recently crisped ground the girl Ghost, Delta Emblock, had just made. It was empty, although the carcasses of Zerglings and Hydralisks were still burning. No additional Zerg was coming through the horizon. Doubtlessly that attack wave was spent out, but another would come. As long as that cluster of Hatcheries were still standing, others would always come. There would always be more Zerg to deploy. But their destruction was not the mission, it were those people. The sooner they left, the better._

_Then, Nova looked to the mine entrance as the said bald Ghost Travski and four figures, two male and two female, unarmed, rushed out of the cave and started running._

_"Come on, come on, GET IT MOVING!", Travski shouted as they started to run outside, through the burned grounds and into the field._

_"MOVE!", roared the same Marine whom previously talked to Nova before the Marines joined the Ghosts' jogging. Now they were in open field, and this was the most dangerous, because it both had no cover and the Zerg could come from anywhere._

_Open field was always the best option for the Zerg, and one they most liked. Massive armies whom attempted to fight the wrath of the eternal Swarm had been crushed. Many times it wasn't because of lack of preparation. It was because the Zerg just were... too many of them, literally._

_"What we're gonna do if we can't lift!?", shouted Nova, nervous._

_"The ship has to lift, girl!", Tosh answered. "We hold how longer it takes to lift off!"_

_"Ammo doesn't last forever, y'know!?", shouted the male Ghost with the long brown hair._

_"Not while those Hatcheries are around!", Tosh shouted back. "Nova, you with me, the rest head to the Cyrus and fix it! If we can't get back in twenty, don't you wait-"_

_"The heck is that!?", the Asian Ghost said as the people suddenly looked forward, into the air. Something was coming up. But it wasn't Zerg flyers nor a massive creature, nor a Terran ship. It was a gigantic cloud, a brown cloud, large enough to cover an entire state, coming at absurd speed towards the group._

_"SANDSTORM!?", the redhaired girl shouted, but it was too late, as the cloud was already atop the group and covered it in a thick, brown fog, winds breathing violently in all sides, . "In this place!?"_

_"Keep moving!", Tosh roared. "Don't you no stop for nothing!"_

_Those people kept following on suit, all but Nova, whom was shielding her eyes with her right arm to avoid any dust speck from entering them. Suddenly, she felt something on her right toe as she fell to the ground. She hit it painfully, her teeth grinding at the event._

_'Dammit!', Nova thought, angry, trying to get herself on her feet again. She was right to be angry at that. It was a long run to the Battlecruiser, the Zerg were going hot after them... and she just tripped._

_Suddenly, however, as she saw ahead, no one was close. Still she kept on running forward. It must be the heavy fog, no doubt they were forward ahead, still racing to the ship before the Zerg catched up._

_'**Poor little girl...**'_

_Nova stopped in the midst of all that fog as she wondered where that voice came from. It somewhow sounded like Tosh, her squad leader, except it was deeper and grave, aged with the passing of time._

_'**You don't wake. You can't wake. You don't want to wake.**'_

_"Who's there!?", shouted Nova, as she held her C-20A firmly, looking for a target. "Is that you, Tosh!?"_

_'**It's me, yeah. But you knew it already, didn' you?**'_

_"The hell you're doing!?", Nova asked. "That's not funny, and now's not time to play!"_

_'**I agree. But it's been long over. Like this place. What happened here.**'_

_"Happened?", Nova asked. "No, it's just a dream, they canceled this mission, they canceled it!"_

_'**Did they? Or they just tell they did?**'_

_"Enough!", shouted Nova. "Show yourself!"_

_Suddenly, something came up her right hear, whispering behind her._

_"**I'm here.**", the grave voice said._

_Nova quickly turned around to see a different figure, one alike to Tosh, but not him. This one beared the same African-american skin and rastafari hair, but he was different. He beared a long beard, clearly unshaved, and pearl white eyes. He wore a black suit that beared some skull mark on the shoulders, along with red energy lines and a chrome metal jacket. The white eyes, akin to those commonly seen in traditional horror movies, could make one whom didn't know this man or turned quickly jump scared._

_Just like it happened with Nova, as she let out a gasp and stepped backwards. This new man simply pushed Nova's rifle aside then pushed her back, making her fall to the ground. She quickly tried to get on her feet, going to pick her rifle when she noticed it was not there. It simply vanished._

_A sound of knives screeching and sliding on one another was heard as Nova turned to see the figure unleashing an unfolding knife. A balisong. He unfolded this knife as he performed an artistic martial antic with it, unveiling it's uncomfortably large blade. The figure had been looking at her with those scary, white eyes._

_"**'Tis time for you to wake.**", the man said, as he suddenly gripped tight on the unfolded balisong and rushed the blade towards Nova with an unnatural speed and ferocity. Nova unleashed a loud scream as a strong white flash erupted later._

* * *

**"GAH!"**

The female guttural noise of anguish and fear echoed through the small quarters as Nova had waken in her bed, breathing heavily and eyes wide in what just happened. She immediately started breathing firmly, trying to control herself and regain her posture to return to sleep. _It happened again._ It was literally the third time in that week, and it didn't seem the memory wiping was helping out that much now.

Then, the door leading to her quarters opened, showing a man in a military uniform before it, looking at her.

"I've heard the noise.", the man asked, holding a flashlight, pointing it at her. Nova made an angry expression as she shut her eyes. "What happened?"

"Nothing.", Nova answered, clearly the question relating to an illness or something. "Just a goddamn dream..."

"Tough day, huh, miss?", the man asked.

"_Very funny._", Nova answered.

"Don't let it happen again tonight!", the man warned. "You nearly woke up the whole corridor."

With this, the door shut, and boot steps began to echo far and far away. The man was gone. She was alone again.

'_Not again._', Nova thought. '_If it's not that dream, it's that on the station, or in the palace... The same thing, over and again! What kind of an agent who's tasked with hunting the target **dreams** about the target!? What the hell kind of obsession is that!?_'

Nova simply let out a sigh as she'd have to make a new appointment for memory wipe. She had began to perform that procedure since Emperor Mengsk forced her to undergo a memory wipe, after her return from Altara. It's been happening since that battle in Altara, when that damned Hydralisk damaged her face mask, exposing her to the purple colored gas reeking the area during the battle. It only got worse during that failed assassination attempt, when that redhaired woman, Okyl, she remembered, the same from her dreams, had sprayed her with that same gas from that planet. _Terrazine_, they called it. A variant of the Vespene Gas, with the exception this one seemed to affect more the brain chemistry than the standard green-colored gas. Her intoxication was the most probable factor behind all those 'dreams'. That is, if dreams could be said of the word. Delusional episodes, the doctors called it. Her exposure made her seen hallucinations, and she had to be treated for such.

She then simply lied back down on the bed, closing her eyes, yet again. She attempted to find sleep as tomorrow would be a long day. Another day. Another assignment.

Problem is, sleep, if not taken when time offers it, becomes a luxury. It's always been like that in the military.

* * *

**COMMANDER'S QUARTERS, WHITE STAR.**

The space on the outside seemed endless on an eternal night as Arcturus Mengsk remained sat on the chair behind the desk of the commander's quarters of the Battlecruiser _White Star_. The chair was minimally comfortable but the remainder of the room was typically spartan, even for military tastes of one like Captain Ethel Hardscape. The same applied to the chair on the other side, which seemed like the same. It must have been due to his commonly long hours in commandeering the ship on the bridge, even for one of his age. The side bed was not so comfortable, somewhat reminding the same as the lowest Sergeant slept through out the ship. There was a simple steel sink with a mirror on the other side of the room, doubtless where he shaved his facial hair and trimmed his haircut. On the other side, stood a cabinet, where he must keep his cleaned and ironed uniform. Close to the cabinet, stood an open passage, no doubt an elevator that would then automatically start the bath time of the person, but not through water. Through sonic cleansing. Something Mengsk _despised_ more than the Zerg.

He simply stood there, holding a glass filled with the best wine available as he thought on what occurred, and how it drove him raving mad, and what would come next. The only thing with a minimum of luxury. Those whom never knew Arcturus Mengsk could say that, because of his tastes, he was just another one of those classic stereotypical elite fellows whom would complain on how '_not sufficiently clean_' was the room or how '_proletarian_' was one desk not of his liking or in the mood, but it wasn't true. He had _earned_ his right for luxuries, and earned it the _hard way_. Something he could always be proud of. He looked across the empty, gray metal table, which had only the personal laptop, configured by military standards, and the report of the day from both the crew and the fighter squadrons running recon or patrol assignments. Other than that, there was no personal belongings, not even family pictures, of either wife, or son or daughter, nor close relatives. A man with no family. At least that was something better, especially comparing to the ever increasing _disappointment_ his son was. First, he was a Prince just too soft. Then, he became a rogue leader, forming grave-robbing expeditions and stealing portions of the Dominion army and fleet from under the Emperor's nose. Now, he had reached bottom pit. No, he had _crossed_ the bottom pit. He now had officially _betrayed_ his father and his empire. He now was walking with the most dangerous, most infamous and most threatening criminal force in the Sector.

A criminal force formed by men and women whom served him. Men and women too _weak_ to see and grasp the essence of power, too attached to simpleton morals and beliefs. They'd never understand the picture of war and the future of an empire as he did. It was a game of chess. An _absurdly large_ game of chess. But one most _volatile_, where even the wrong sacrifice of a single peon could cost heavily. He had to think, two, three, even a dozen times before making the next move.

Such was the case of that broadcast. Those whom saw it would either think it was a provocation at the most wrong time, as literally the entire Dominion fleet was damaged in that battle against the Leviathan, or an act of desperation by the Emperor. It was none of that. It was the contingency and it was the finest opportunity. Kerrigan was now emotionally compromised. She'd make the mistake he'd been waiting for her to do over those four years, since the end of the Brood War. She'd come to him, although she'd not bring in the Zerg. _She wouldn't want to_. Too much trauma of her time with those monsters. She no doubt would try to regain her humanity. A pure, sorry, pathetic effort. No one would want to forgive or help a destroyer of worlds. They would hunt her and anyone else who'd consort with her. Her deeds had seen to her infamous legacy, like genocides from the past like Hitler, Stalin and Genghis Khan eons before her. Unless she was insane to allow herself to join the monsters, who'd now doubtlessly want her dead as she now became nothing more than a weakling, she now had nothing more to hold on to. She'd doubtlessly get a ship, try to find the best position to hit the Throne Room in Augustgrad and then make a try to _ram_ the vessel. But then, he's established an intricate security net, one that was not compromised but once, when the Raiders performed the antics that cost him his popularity. In one way, he became upset, after all now it was virtually hard now to rule over the billions of subjects that now _wanted his head_. Although, on the other hand, he didn't have to lie or pretend to be the '_good guy_' anymore. He didn't need to pretend to be something he wasn't any longer.

The access door, this time a smaller one, meant for only one person to enter or leave, like a common house door, opened. Before it was Hardscape. He seemed tense as he entered the room, seeing Mengsk sit on the desk chair.

"Hardscape.", Mengsk said, as he allowed the captain entry into his own quarters.

"Truth be told, sir, I never expected you to _accommodate_ so well in this place.", Hardscape commented, as he walked towards the table.

"I didn't.", Mengsk answered, sarcastically. "I never liked and _never will like_ the sonic cleansing, but this seems the most modest of the remainder of the vessel. And I would be damned to share a bunk in the lower levels. I was never fond of bullhorns booming in my ear by four-fifty in the morning."

"Clearly the design crew behind this did not account for a VIP to be aboard.", Hardscape answered, passing by the Emperor and looking at the outside window, into the starry space behind. "At least not this soon. But do not worry, Emperor, fortunately it's temporary. The engines and Warp Core are finishing repairs as of now, we should be able to warp to Dylar IV within the hour."

"Good.", Mengsk said, as he took a sip of his wine glass. He then looked at Hardscape, whom seemed to still carry the worried expression. "I can see an expression of worry when I see one, Hardscape. Is it about the speech?"

Hardscape simply took a small look at the sit Emperor, then retreated to sit in the frontal chair, on the other side of the desk.

"About it's effect... _sir_.", Hardscape answered, bitterly. "I'm just wondering if making that statement was necessary. It would even be plausible if we did have Kerrigan and Raynor, killed them and showed their bodies for public view, but most of the population won't even believe it. They do not know how the Dominion is forced to deal with things, but they are not _stupid_. Besides, the news of his death may begin a revolution by the time we are home."

"I hardly doubt it.", Mengsk said. "Not when they are doubting as to why Raynor had kept Kerrigan alive and not killed her on the spot. This and the fact they 'killed' my son. I presume you've seen that prick Lockwell's report."

"I did.", Hardscape answered, coldly. "And I still ask, was it really necessary? Was it even _prudent_? The moment your son steps into a civilized Dominion-controlled world and is spotted, people will discover the lie. They may even believe Raynor **is** alive! And even I would doubt the story of Raynor trying to work with the Queen of Blades!"

"That's not the concern, Hardscape.", Mengsk answered. "My concern, as of now, is Kerrigan. I especially made the whole scene to lure her, to tease her into coming in my realm. She must be unstable with his 'death', right now, even more with me openly gloating about it. She can't resist her anger, she will come to me."

"_And how does that assure me she won't bring the Swarm along with her_?", asked Hardscape, angry. "How can you be sure she's not trying to buy time to reunite the Zerg for a massive head-on assault? Especially if there are more of those giant things, as DeForrest implied?"

"You've never seen the Zerg like I did.", answered Mengsk. "Basically, they're like an insect colony, but are also very _tribal_, given the proper stimulation. And in tribal societies, it's always the _strongest_ whom rule. My son has seen to it that she lost most, if not all, of her power. She's now a weakling, an insect waiting for a boot to stomp over her. And I doubt the Swarm would want to follow a shadow of her former past. Besides, her trauma of her times as the Queen of those things, along with a _dispensable moral conscience_, will assure she'll never want to return or even _consider_ ruling the Swarm. She won't want that. She'll want to do it all as a _human_. Purely impossible, for any believable eye."

"None of us are sure, sir.", Hardscape answered. "Kerrigan can very well take a chance, out of pure desperation. When one is desperate, he becomes _unpredictable_. And unpredictable is the most dangerous."

"Something that would not have happened if you hadn't faltered today.", Mengsk spoke, sarcastically.

"_You nearly wasted leadership and firepower the Dominion would need in the following days_!", Hardscape answered back. "And if that event occurred again, I'd do it again!"

"And I still maintain my opinion!", Mengsk censored. "We were close to killing Kerrigan and ending all this... mess. We _were_ close. Now, all there is left is to wait."

"_Wait_?", Hardscape asked. "You heard the opinion of the Group Commanders on the bridge, we already have too much to do with the introduction of the Leviathan! There is also the matter of Char!"

"_Why do you think I agreed with DeForrest_?", asked Mengsk, now apparently disturbed. "I'm well aware of the possibility the Zerg may have a_ fleet_ at their disposal! But do not worry... I have a sort of... _contingencies_ for the eventuality of an invasion."

This had caught Hardscape's attention, although not in a _pleasant_ way. Having already served the former Confederacy in the past, he always knew of skeletons in the locker. Skeletons like the Confederates' deep involvement in psionics research, much beyond the Ghost Program.

"Exactly what kind of contingencies?", Hardscape asked, slowly. Mengsk simply took another sip of his wine glass.

"Well, Hardscape... I'm afraid I won't be able to tell you.", Mengsk said, as he let out a sigh. "But I assure you, it can even turn the tide in our war against the Zerg."

"This much powerful, then?", Hardscape asked, ironically, frowning his forehead.

"_You have no idea._", Mengsk said, smirking lightly.

* * *

Fleshy walls, with the exception of a dim, purplish gloom, was, basically, what decorated the said Nerve Center of the Leviathan. The gloom, obviously, came from one of those glowing gas orbs on the Leviathan's eyes, providing some decent lightning at best. Some scaled carapace loomed through some wall sections, although, unlike the remainder of the beast, there was some utility, like covering one different gas orb of a sort, a blue-colored one, meant for some particular purpose. On the floor, remained some sort of a puddle filled with green liquid, that some would see it was not meant for any non-Zerg creature. The Nerve Center was practically empty, save for Izsha, whom was present in one of the corners, hanging herself for an eternity as she stared at a fleshy wall like if she was looking through a window. The only problem was that this window was just too opaque to see anything through. Normally, some who'd seen the Gorgon-like creature simply hanging would be concerned on how tired she'd be, just hanging so much, but she didn't bother. Her attachment to that beast never made her tire or bother. She stopped bothering two years since the beginning of her new life.

Before then, she was different. She was Terran. Was a doctor. Was Haley. The one secret she managed to keep it hidden from Kerrigan's mind snooping so far. Either Izsha did a very good job in hiding or this new Kerrigan wasn't _interested_ at all. She could still remember that fateful day. The day that she died... _And lived another life_. A life that wasn't _hers_.

* * *

_It was dark, cold night, in that place. It was always dark, after all, inside a space platform. Cold metal walls, roof and floor surrounded her, as a light cone illuminated the small dark space where Haley stood in her cell. A small, fleshy tentacle bit was crawling on one of the corners of the barred opening. The scenario, outside, in the corridor, was a bit much more worse. Literal flesh was covering a corridor that once was clean. Fast, bestial paws beating against the ground could be felt and heard as Zerglings simply ran the corridors instead of walking. Human scream could still be heard. Those damn monsters._

_They were doing something with those man and women. Something worse than killing them. Pure torture. Infestation._

_She couldn't sleep for days since her entry last week into that place. For days she's been wearing that top and the torn jeans, with a gigantic hole on her right leg. For days, she had not eaten or drinked anything that wasn't contaminated. Her blonde hair was a mess, starting ever since Day One. She wished she had just died and be done with it, and not being caught alive, like the rest, and dragged to that place. Her time would come to savour the horrors, this was certain. She had to get away, and fast. This time, she had saved some of her strength. The last times had been in vain. Something was interfering with her tries. Either it was fatigue and lack of sleep or some sort of dampening field. A dampening field that blocked her psionic capacity. A power she possessed. A power that would've caught the attention of the Ghost Program, but it didn't. It instead caught the attention of the Zerg. They wanted her alive for that reason. To sample those powers. To use those powers for their schemes._

_Suddenly, her cell door opened. A massive figure appeared before her. A malformed figure in a marine armor, doubtless wearing the colors of the defunct Confederacy. Giant, fleshy growth enveloped this figure and even squeezed through the gaps in the once pristine combat suit. Massive growths resembling insectile scythes appeared between the shoulder gaps. One of the former hands had a massive claw wrapped in flesh and carapace. The other was virtually wrapped, although it carried an old C-14 Gauss Rifle enveloped in the embrace of a tentacle. The face was one of a horrendous creature, replacing the smooth touch of a human one. Two red yellow eyes remained glowing, staring at her behind the mess of tentacles and pustules covering his face. It's breath was steady, yet heavy._

_An Infested Marine, sent to pick her up._

_The time had come. The die was cast. She wouldn't suffer that fate. She had to escape, and the massive, deformed creature before her had given her the opportunity._

_Haley mustered all the strength she could get as she extended right hand to the infested creature. A massive burst of energy suddenly erupted from her hand, hitting the massive figure. It flew back, hitting one of the flesh-covered metal walls. The figure was virtually intact, save for it's head piece, now gone, leaving a puddle of smoke and blood. She instantly got on her feet and started running._

_She ran with all the strength she could muster across the horror scene, past the monsters, the screams, horrible figures. She continued running until she had reached a set of heavy doors. The doors which led to the hangar of the infested space station. She continued hammering the button until, finally, the doors opened. It was her chance. Her chance to escape or die trying._

_But it didn't happen. And this occurred as Haley ran forward, to the dim energy screening that prevented the vaccuum of space from invading the hangar, stripping it of all breathable air, and pulling people to the black, starry void outside. Her face turned into one of despair and hopelessness as she saw metal shapes floating in the space outside. Space ship shapes. But they weren't burning or were even damaged, they were simply unoccupied. They were jettisoned. It was a lost effort, even before it began. It was when she looked behind, and saw that crowd of Zerg forms behind her. Hydralisks, Zerglings and even Infested Terrans had come before her._

_She was then forcingly taken through the space through a chamber filled with horrors. Filled with eggs. Filled with people imprisoned in cocoons, as they'd have their bodies and even their souls deformed, all to serve the Swarm as puppets. She was thrown and fell to the ground, frightened of what it'd come next. But then, something broke the other noises on the room. A female voice._

_"I just heard of your little breakout attempt.", the female figure spoke, her voice distorted, as she approached Haley. A literal manifestation of an alien Sucubbus. An entirely firm and toned humanoid female figure, with firm breasts and behind, covered in scaled skin and carapace. Her heels had two spiky extrusions forming a sort of a high-heel shoe while leaving the human like digits in the foot still whole. Two gigantic limbs, resembling bat wings, loomed on her back. Her head was clearly human, with the exception of the glowing yellow eyes and the tendril-hair, like small tentacles covered in bone-like carapace. "I applaud your effort, though it was in vain. I am Kerrigan, matriarch of the Zerg. I would like to know your name."_

_Haley simply looked at the creature as she went on her back, sitting this time on the ground. Her expression was still one of pure horror._

_"And why would you even care to know?", Haley spoke, frightened. "Just go ahead and get it over with!"_

_Kerrigan smiled. An evil smile._

_"Oh, we shall..."_

* * *

That memory had been disturbing Izsha's head for an eternity, but it was just four years. Four years serving the Swarm. Four years since she became that _thing_. Four years being the advisor to that bitch whom twisted her and played with her form like wet clay or bread mass. But not just that. She _toyed_ with her mind. In addition to her torments and demons, she came to share those of Kerrigan. Her memories, thoughts, plans, feelings... Izsha had become a living memory vault. Four years where she couldn't do anything, complain, talk or even think on the matter. While on the outside, she seemed to comply like a doll robbed of any humanity or intelligence, in the inside, her remainder of her human self _screamed_ for eternities on end.

But, now, things have changed. The Queen of Blades was dead. Jim Raynor had seen to it, taking that artifact Kerrigan was so obsessed with right to her doorstep. The fact Kerrigan was hunting the artifacts firstly generated uproar and disgruntling amongst the Brood Mothers, something that she could use to her advantage, but quickly became silent the moment the first shockwave hit the proximities of Kerrigan's 'palace', burning all Zerg in the proximities. It was when Kerrigan decided she had enough. But she had been barred time and again, by the combined firepower of the Dominion and the cunning of Raynor. And, with every shockwave being launched, Kerrigan's desperation grew. The final strike was coming near. Izsha could have said anything, even when it was on the verge of firing, but she couldn't. Her Terran self, stored inside, decided to make a run for it.

Haley would have her revenge. The bitch would fall.

_And she did_.

But Izsha was also caught in the blast. Some time went on before she regained consciousness, but, when she felt it, she was finally free. Free to do what she wished. But her attachment to the Leviathan had kept her in bounds thus far, yet, the beast was useful, once she finally learned how to control it. The attachment seemed to control the insides of the beast as well. Her powers remained intact, and somehow even grew since her transformation.

But now... Now she felt like she could have something more. She already knew, over all those years, that she couldn't come back. At least, not in the way she was. She got used to it. But then, she'd seen the power of the Swarm. What she could do with it. What she _would_. Then, her memories, along with those of Kerrigan... It was a torment, but it was also a _boon_. Plans that Kerrigan stashed in her, plans still to be set in motion. She felt like she could do it.

She could rule the Swarm.

The problem were just the _others_. The others whom barred her way.

She still remembered it. It was those days ago.

That bickering.

That mocking.

* * *

_It was virtually dark, literally pitch black. Distortion took care of the scene as Izsha was looming in the scene, waiting for the others. She called the meeting. She had to deliver the news. With a slight addition of satisfaction, to say the least. Still, she contained it. It wasn't the moment, nor the proper place, to celebrate victory. It would look like that she wanted Kerrigan to fall. An initial first impression that wouldn't bode well._

_Then, new, ghostly figures appeared. Ten, more than ten of those figures, and more were coming forward, appearing from the pitch black scene. Figures of Zerg beings, all of the same type, although some were more developed than others. They were clearly humanoid and still alien, with feminine Terran features like slim upper body stature, arm structure and chest and even tendril hair, although the face, head format, hands and even the lower body remained alien. Two abnormally large insectile limbs tethered from their back of their carapace covered bodies, shadowed by the gigantic head that reminded some sort of a giant crown, if seen in a certain angle. Their face was completely alien, with lack of mouth and nose, with just two glowing eyes and jaws even larger than that of Hydralisks, so large that they wouldn't close. The lower body was insectile, it's back covered in small green-colored pustules, supported by insectile legs distributed like spiders, all while connected to a tissue akin to that of drones, forming a dress of some sort. They were Queens. Not Queens, like Kerrigan was. They were simply field commanders and caretakers for the Hive Clusters._

_Although, on that meeting, those Queens were different. They were generals. They were Brood Mothers. Modified Queens created by Kerrigan to serve as her lieutenants. The streaming glow that surrounded their bodies, with jamming akin to Terran transmissions, meant they were simply psionic manifestations, transmitted from the Brood Mothers whom were afar, spread through out the vast territories of the Swarm._

_"What is the meaning of this 'meeting', Izsha?", asked one of those Brood Mothers, looking directly at her. The Brood Mother's voice was female, although sounding old with age. "And why is our Queen not present, if it is indeed so important?"_

_"That's the motive of the meeting, Kilysa.", Izsha answered. "The Terran's incursion to Char has succeeded. The Queen has fallen."_

_Suddenly, small murmur began to surround the dark environment._

_"Impossible!", another Brood Mother said, not believing. "Our Queen would not have allowed it. Our numbers are vast and our power is not contested! It is simply impossible to simply invade Char and destroy our Queen."_

_"She's not dead, Ryloth.", Izsha said. "She was un-infested."_

_"How?", Kilysa said. "As far as I seem to remember, nothing can reverse Zerg infestation."_

_"Jim Raynor has proven it otherwise.", Izsha said. "And he wasn't alone. The young son of Arcturus Mengsk was with him, along with half of the Dominion fleet. The Crown Prince seems to be less green than even I had hoped."_

_"And how this was allowed to happen?", Kilysa asked, angry. "Where were the Broods when this attack was occurring?"_

_"It seems you've grown forgetful, Kilysa.", Izsha answered. "Don't you remember the Queen has scattered the Broods across Terran and Protoss space to look for that Xel'Naga artifact?"_

_"Even so, our Queen would have recalled our Broods!", Kilysa exclaimed._

_"She has recalled us, Kilysa.", a third Brood Mother said. "I remember this as well."_

_"Yes, well, Na'fash, you should've seen her face.", Izsha said. "Particularly when she saw the artifact she was hunting for right on her doorstep."_

_Silence had spread across the void._

_"It does not make sense.", another, fourth Brood Mother said. "Why would the Terrans bring an artifact the Queen was looking for? Even so if she could use this artifact against them?"_

_"The artifact was a weapon, Ro'Karr.", Izsha said. "It was how Raynor dethroned Kerrigan. And it was what caused this whole uproar within the Swarm."_

_The void remained silent as the projections of the Brood Mothers simply stared at one another in shock, but also not understanding what Izsha meant._

_"You can feel it, can't you?", Izsha asked, smirking. "A feeling of relief from a burden dropped? A lighter sense of effort in your control? The artifact has broken her control over the Swarm. But we also lost control of our minions."_

_"This is not possible!", Ryloth protested yet again. "We would know if our minions had gone feral!"_

_"Actually, this is happening as of now.", Izsha stated. "Our Overlords whom maintained vigilance in deep space have just discovered a literal graveyard of Leviathan carcasses on the path between Mar Sara and Char, as well as the corpses of several minions of smaller sizes. Unless there is another explanation, I'd say our fleet has gone feral and bashed one another to death."_

_"An entire force of Leviathans lost...", Kilysa muttered. "It may take many days before we can replace the losses. The Dominion may purge half of our worlds by then!"_

_"I never thought we would come to this, but we must reach a truce with the Terrans.", spoke a fifth Brood Mother. "How long will it be before they use this artifact again? We must afford time to rebuild our strength and assess the situation!"_

_"**There will be no 'truces', C'Elt!**", Ro'Karr censored, furious. "Zerg do not negotiate, they respond! We have never weakened before, and we shan't weaken now! I say we attack!"_

_"Attack!?", Na'fash asked, upset. "With what attack force!?"_

_"You have heard Izsha, Na'fash, the Dominion has commissioned half of the fleet for the assault on Char, they have left most of their worlds defenseless!", Ro'Karr said. "Just as we have suffered losses, may they suffer as well!"_

_"A campaign to the Dominion worlds now will cost us more than today!", Kilysa stated. "We will be even more vulnerable than now, I will not allow it!"_

_"'Not allow it'!?", Ryloth repeated upset. "Who are you to say so!? You are not even the Queen of the Swarm!"_

_"I possess the Leviathans and the breeding ground!", Kilysa answered, furious. "I was the first Brood Mother conceptioned by the Queen of Blades! I have every claim to rule the Swarm!"_

_On the background, Izsha let out a smirk, her blackened teeth appearing._

_"You may possess the largest beasts of the Swarm, Kilysa, but they are few!", spoke Ro'Karr, angry. "My numbers virtually control Zz' gash, Urona Sigma and Ulaan, each with major Hive Clusters! My numbers outweigh your size!"_

_"Size and numbers does not compare to the needs to adapt in the fiercest worlds!", Na'fash meddled. "Take those and we may be able to expand our numbers potentially! Adapt or perish, that is the cardinal rule of the Swarm!"_

_"I control the throne world, Brood Mothers!", a sixth voice boomed. "The Queen whom controls Char is entitled to rule the Swarm!"_

_"Char is merely a planet like any other, Za'gara!", Kilysa answered. "The throne may very well be in C'Elt's pathetic colonies in Agria for all I can care!"_

_"**What if I told you that I'm also eligible?**", a voice boomed out in the voice. The Brood Mothers all turned to see the source of the speaker, belonging to Izsha. "I too have every claim to rule, just like you..."_

_"And what makes you so special for the throne?", Kilysa asked._

_"The Queen of Blades has stored her thoughts, her memories...", Izsha started. "I am sure she told you of this?"_

_"And what being a simpleton memory vault has to do with your qualities for ruling?", Kilysa asked, bitterly._

_"Kerrigan has stored her plans as well.", Izsha spoke. "Plans, strategies, everything that we can use in these times of war."_

_"Kerrigan's plans have completely destroyed her.", Kilysa mocked. "You'd dare put the Swarm in the hands of such plans?"_

_"Kerrigan somehow faltered.", Izsha spoke, staring at Kilysa. "I won't. I even have a Brood to perform this task if you won't."_

_"And how do you command your Brood, Izsha?", Ro'Karr asked, mocking her as well. "Do you bash them the entire day with the Leviathan's tentacles until they obey your every wish? I have learned of your origins, Izsha. You are nothing. You are just attached to a creature, to Kerrigan's personal Leviathan."_

_"One single Leviathan, while I command several.", Kilysa followed. "But, other than just a creature and the minions you bully within, what else do you have? Have you conquered a planet? Have you acquired any power? Do you even have any power?"_

_"I decided I don't like your tone, Kilysa.", Izsha spoke, starting to get on her nerves, yet struggling to maintain the posture._

_"And what will you do?", Kilysa asked. "Whip your hair tentacles against us?", she added as the other Brood Mothers started to chuckle in mockery. Izsha started to become angry and livid. "You are a slobbering, malformed, half-Zerg, half-Terran genetic defect and nothing more. You have no power, you do not even have a body, you share with one. You are not even a whole Zerg!"_

_"Interesting, and here I thought appearances did not matter within the Swarm!", Izsha spoke, angry._

_"I am a Brood Mother, Izsha. What are you?", Kilysa spoke. "I was hatched, grown and prepared as a Zerg, you were merely turned into one! And I would rather have the Protoss and Terrans incinerate my carcass or native vermin devouring it before following a weakling like you!"_

_"As would I!", Ro'Karr entered, mocking as well._

_"I second the motion!", Za'gara spoke. "Return to your pet and go torment some weakling force, we do not care and never will! You are not Queen! You will NEVER be Queen!"_

_"Alright, then!", Izsha shouted back angry. "Let it be war, then! We'll see who laughs when I slither through each and every carcass of yours!"_

_Suddenly, in the background, a laugh was heard, from one of the Brood Mothers. Then, shortly after, all the Brood Mothers followed, like if Izsha was the joke of the moment. Izsha couldn't believe it, her expression becoming enraged and appalled. She was losing control of that meeting._

_"Would it not be 'stepping' over us, Izsha!?", Na'fash said, letting out a loud laughter, if she had a mouth, of course. The other Brood Mothers laughed even louder and higher._

_"IT WON'T END LIKE THIS! YOU HEAR ME!?", Izsha roared. "**I'LL REMEMBER THAT! I'LL REMEMBER THAT WHEN I COME FOR YOU!**"_

_"Oh, we shall, Izsha!", Kilysa shouted, defiantly. "Especially in when we crush you time and again! Go, and speak no further of your delusional dreams! Go and remember your place... **stripling**!"_

_Izsha simply could not withstand any more. She left the meeting and all that mocking laughter in the matter, returning to her physical state in the Leviathan._

* * *

Her thought had finished as she closed her eyes in utter anger. She could still hear the echo of herself screaming mad in the empty Nerve Center.

'**_DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! YOU'LL DIE! YOU HEAR ME!? YOU! WILL! DIE!_**', that was the thought that still boomed in her head. Those who would have seen the meeting would be right to allow her to roar. Who were those selfish, pompous, arrogant, pesky wretches of Brood Mothers to mock and _make so little of her_? All because of appearance, all because of _role_! They were no rulers. They had armies, they had power, but no vision or even _ambition_ to use that! They would lead the Swarm to ruin with their petty war for the throne, as they bicker one an other while the entire Zerg species whithers to death and the Dominion takes an advantage of it, _laughing_ at the opportunity ahead! Izsha, of course, never expected they would willingly bow to her at that instant, or to even consider the possibility of her leading entire Zerg armies. But she never expected they would think of her as a simpleton object. A simple thing, nothing more. No, the Brood Mothers were no leaders, much like the Cerebrates of old times. Kerrigan was. She could see ahead, unlike those hags. She was a leader. Much like Izsha wanted to be.

But they would pay. Oh, yes, _they would dearly pay_, one by one, for that insult and mockery. Her new acquaintance would see to it. One by one, they would fall before her. Za'gara, Na'fash, Ryloth, Ro'Karr... and Kilysa, the said _'first one'_, the most _bloated_ in arrogance of them all! Izsha had special aims for that one...

Kerrigan would be her spearhead. Her weapon. Her deliverance of leadership. And then she'd _'leave'_ the Swarm, not wanting the throne back. Izsha had nothing to lose. She could not lose.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted as the fleshy door unveiled itself, revealing a female figure in a tight gray suit. Her associate. She smiled as she looked at the coming guest, putting those thoughts aside as Kerrigan walked in and Izsha went in to greet her.

"You took your time.", Izsha said.

"Maybe if you told me how to get here, I'd have come in _earlier_.", Kerrigan answered.

"I know.", Izsha answered. "I actually did it on purpose. I wanted you to familiarize yourself with the place before we began. It'll be a long road, y'know?"

"Well, excuse me for being so rude, but I'm not intended on being _homesick_ when I leave.", Kerrigan said. "I just want to get this done with and then get out of your way. At least until I have to fight you in the future."

Izsha chuckled.

"Don't worry, I promise I'll wait some time before getting to that.", Izsha said. "After all, I'll be enjoying my realm, commanding my servants, expanding economy, creating an army and equipping it, the usual works. By the way... _how was it with Abathur_?"

Kerrigan stared at Izsha as she widened her eyes in shock and a cold shiver went up her spine. She knew.

"But...", Kerrigan started, hesitating. "_How_?"

"I am attached to the Leviathan, my dear, thanks to you.", Izsha answered, although she was not angry or resentful. This increased the spine shiver Kerrigan already had. "It's a bit too technical, but, let's say I can _literally_ operate the beast, and look at everything and hear everything in any place of this ship. What an eye, '_security camera_', as you'd call it sees on a corridor or chamber, _I see it too_. But don't worry, I warned you earlier Abathur lacks in behavior sometimes. Still, he makes a good job in playing the _mad scientist_, so I can't dispense him either."

"He literally tried to come up on me, Izsha.", Kerrigan complained. "He wanted to _infest_ me, or something."

"Even if you allowed it, I wouldn't let him.", Izsha said. "I made it strictly clear that his corpse would _decorate_ this place if he layed a finger on you. Trust me, you'll leave the same way you came in."

"And can I trust your word?", asked Kerrigan, sarcastically.

"I don't know how it was on your home, in TarKossia, but, where I came from, I was taught that a word is a debt and you ought to pay it.", Izsha answered. "I still follow that thought. Besides, backstabbing and cheating on people like you did in your '_glory days_' would make my future rule _shorter_. No, it's simply _less damaging_ to carry out the agreement."

"_How comforting._", Kerrigan said, ironically, as she simply started looking at the 'room' around her. Fleshy, like the rest.

"I obviously forgot to say, sorry about the Dropship-", Izsha started, but then she was interrupted.

"Can we please dispense the chatter now? I want to get to point.", Kerrigan said, rashly, not wanting to delay any longer. "You said to prepare myself before we begin. But where?"

"Isn't it obvious?", Izsha asked. "Char."

"Char?", Kerrigan asked, as she frowned her forehead. "That volcanic dump world on the edge of Terran space?"

"And your former seat of power.", Izsha answered. "Our largest '_throne world_', to say that way, now occupied by the Dominion of your beloved Arcturus Mengsk, the local forces being led by a veteran of the First Great War, General Horace Warfield."

"I remember him.", Kerrigan answered. "Confederate Battlecruiser Commander, _Iron Justice_, but deserted after the destruction of Korhal. He helped the revolution, although he never was an actual member. Third-party, you get the idea."

"Now he's a three-star General, returned to duty from retirement due to our invasion. He was with your boyfriend and Mengsk's son when they invaded and... Got you back. But the problem is, he didn't leave, he remained and was assigned by Mengsk to _purge_ the place.", Izsha continued, pausing ironically at the final part. "They have even established a foothold on that place, with the chaos the Zerg have been making on the planet after the Xel'Naga artifact fired. I still think it's with them, they won't want to move it until the planet is clean. It's simply too powerful for them to move it everywhere around, it's their _coup d'grace_, their contingency for things spiraling out of control..."

"Jim told me. You can't even imagine the pain I felt when I woke up on his arms.", Kerrigan said, her eyes rolling. "And, as he told me too, that thing can literally burn Zerg nearby, right?"

"You have no idea.", Izsha said.

"_And still you want to reclaim the planet_?", asked Kerrigan, worried. "Even more when we don't have that much? And no doubt the military occupying Char must outnumber us at least _twenty to one_, as you said it's my former '_throne_', so they wouldn't even need to use the artifact this time, they just need to _clamp down_ on us. So, '_mistress_', I humbly ask, _how do you plan to face them_?"

"All in due time, Kerrigan.", Izsha said, apparently tranquil, despite the fact they were heading straight into the lion's den. "For now, I'm more concerned about what can _you_ do about Za'gara, one of your renegade Brood Mothers. That's a Zerg General, in your terms."

"Renegade?", Kerrigan asked, curious.

"I don't know if you noticed, Kerrigan, but your boyfriend's '_quest to rescue his princess_' just shattered the Swarm apart!", Izsha exclaimed, ironically. "When the Queen of Blades fell, _so did all sense of authority_! The Brood Mothers started thinking and acting on their own accord, fighting petty wars for control of the Swarm, and wasting manpower and resources that would be better spent fight the Dominion!"

"_And I'm going to put the pieces back together, I suppose?_", Kerrigan asked, in realization.

"It's a start.", Izsha answered, frowning her forehead as well. At least, if her forehead could frown.

"Great.", Kerrigan replied, as she simply sat down on one of the walls. She didn't care whether it was slimy or drooling. She embraced her arms around her legs as she let out a heavy sigh. Izsha simply looked at her with some curiosity.

"Still trying to assimilate all this, aren't you?", Izsha asked.

"Trying to accept.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "Especially _this soon_... I promised to Jim I wouldn't trace that path again. But now I'm gonna have to break it."

"Keeping it won't bring him back, either, for all I know.", Izsha said, ironically. "And I don't think you would have much of a choice, after a while. As I said earlier, there is a big line of people wanting your head. Yours and those of any clown whom tries to help you. You wouldn't last two minutes in deep space without help."

"_I had help!_", exclaimed Kerrigan, staring Izsha. "Jim's crew, Valerian... They would've helped me!"

"Would they? _At the cost of their reputation_?", Izsha teased. "They have spent four years building a reputation amongst the people for killing all and any Zerg. Imagine how quick it'd _plummet_ when the news are spread that the Queen of Blades is among them and wasn't executed or even delivered for judgment. Not to mention the Crown Prince wouldn't want to start with a negative opinion, if he ever managed to _succeed_ his daddy. The masses don't care at all if you're good or bad, or if the Devil steps up the moment your throat is slit. _All they want is to see the witch burn._ It's their pleasure. It's their _narcotic_. And all merely because of your power."

"I never asked for those powers, Izsha.", Kerrigan answered, bitterly. "And I never wanted to command an army of monsters. But then I wake up, four years since my... sleep... and I discover I became the most hated woman on the known frakking universe! _Can you picture the feeling_?"

"Pretty much so.", Izsha answered. A small pause occurred as Kerrigan looked the other way around. "I'm going to speak some names, some you might recognize, some you might not: Leonardo Da Vinci, Margaret Thatcher, Albert Einstein, Galileo Galilei, George Washington, Alexander, Lincoln, Caesar... All of them, great names. Indeed, they made their names in different fields, scientific, political, military, but they all had one thing in common: _They were all hated before their time_. What mattered was how they ignored this hatred with the passing of years. Some, I might add, have even used this hatred as their _shield_, as their _body armor_, and thus they were _never hurt_ by it."

"Thanks for the lesson.", Kerrigan replied, sarcastically, looking at her. "You just forgot the fact I'm walking along the lines of Nero, Caligula, Atilla, Genghis Khan and Hitler. Not just genocides. Tyrants too. And people whom didn't last longer in their chair."

"They were stupid.", Izsha answered. "And they were, simply put, _men_. They let themselves drunk with all their power and vices. We don't make these mistakes."

"Pretty feminist, coming from you.", Kerrigan said, ironically.

"You're missing the point, little girl.", Izsha quickly spoke, trying to correct the message. "What I'm actually saying is that this hatred, the fact we are monsters... True, we never chose it, we never wanted it, but, alas, _here we are_, all gathered in the same public hell. They'll never want us, the people outside, they'll never _like_ us. They think they're too _enlightened_ for this, with all their 'civilized' codes and morals. But we also never asked for their opinion, and never _wanted_ it. And we can make the things they can't or don't want to make, with their fear of falling along the same line we are. The best things. The right things."

"That's how you Zerg justify _all you did_?", Kerrigan asked. "Invading worlds, killing billions, infesting and consuming loved ones?"

"That was the old times, Kerrigan.", Izsha answered. "When the Overmind and his pus bag lieutenants called Cerebrates were concerned with boring concepts of '_Perfection_'. Times change. So do Zerg. And we're the _pioneers_ in this business.", she added, smirking. "By the way, we're coming closer to our first target. I suggest you get ready. Come back here when you are."

"I will.", Kerrigan spoke, coming to her feet. "_Can I at least pick up my rifle, this time?_"

"Sorry about that too.", Izsha answered. "I just didn't want you shooting around frightened. You get the idea."

Kerrigan simply looked at Izsha.

"See you later.", it was all she could say before she left, leaving Izsha to her thoughts alone.

Yes, this Kerrigan was pretty much a different one. No doubt it was one of those 'I must do' situations, rathen than a 'I want to'. Izsha preferred that way. This was one Kerrigan she could control, one she could properly motivate or smoothen without being afraid she'd burst out. Plus, she liked the conversation. It was good enjoying the calm after the storm, even though it was a brief one.

It was that way with the Zerg, mostly. It has always been.

One storm ended and another would begin shortly after.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

Third time's a charm, I can't believe it. This is not becoming a Fanfic, it's becoming a freaking novel! The size of the chapters I'm writing will be enough to make a thick book twice the size of the Delphi manual! But, oh, what the hell, now it's finished. I was even thinking of adding the Warfield and Protoss introduction parts (This one will be brief, let me warn you beforehand!), but I decided to let it to the next chapter as the time's short.

Well, already on to defend this chapter. Before the haters already start complaining and stuff, I'm well aware the scene of Nova's dream during the Battle of Shi is very different, at least I think it IS different, but the truth is, I haven't read _Ghost Academy,_ and I doubt I'll be able to read those of you interested in the reason why, please read below. Also, it's just a dream, where different can happen, so don't concern so much about that. Then, there's Mengsk's scene, which you may feel it was forced, but I couldn't leave him be after the transmission. People would want explanations and stuff, you get the idea. I really hope you liked Abathur and Izsha's scenes, I think I managed to encompass the situations or explanations in such a small time. Again, read below for the explanation. At least I think one or two will say something concerning the Vespene Gas and Mineral methods the Zerg use to process the resources, but even I don't know that much. I'm a fan of StarCraft, but not a hardcore, '_has all the books and all the related stuff'_ type of fan. If there are corrections you'd like to point, don't be afraid of pointing them in your reviews. I don't bite, and I'm here to listen. This and the Valerian scene, which you may see as out of line.

Also, speaking of Valerian, there's something I wanted to talk about, that was in the previous chapter, but I forgot it. It's concerning that thing that the two choices on the Char battle were both used. People can ask, and with all due reason, why not just one choice, like it was in the game. Because, firstly, it's on the game, obvious, but the choice dilemma could be applied in the situations like it was with Hanson and the Protoss or Tosh X Nova in _Wings of Liberty, _in which you chose either one or another, there was no middle term available. But Char is different because it's a military operation, where both grounds could be covered. I like to assume, unlike Blizzard, that not everyone in the military is stupid and doesn't need to depend on every choice Jim Raynor makes. That's my best explanation so far to those events, I think I can provide something better later.

Now, the explanation I mentioned above. It's more of an announcement, actually. I wanted to tell you people to not expect any new chapters for the next week or the other. That is because the firm I work for (A smaller one, mind you.) is opening a new, second place in another state, and, since I'm a technical consultant, I'll have to be headed there tomorrow (Monday) to help with the process. I estimate it'll take at least three weeks before I can post another chapter, which I'll start work ASAP. Two weeks because of the work, then the third which I'll be home and start the chapter. But, given what I wrote, that seems enough to hold people for a month at least. xD

So, that's it. Review please, I might be able to find some time before I'm headed to airport to reply some reviews. Until next chapter, I repeat, it won't be next week this time, enjoy the ride, and please, wish me luck! I'm afraid I'm gonna need it. See ya!


	10. Chapter VIII - The First Warm Breeze

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER VIII - THE FIRST WARM BREEZE**

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - "_HARKONNEN_"**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

"General, Hercules 3-4-7 is requesting landing permission.", said the communications officer, an African-American female on her thirties. "Bringing new equipment, weapons and ammunition."

"Give clearance to them, just like the rest.", Warfield simply answered as he leaned on the Tactical Map table in the center of the Command Room inside the Primary Operations Center, that did not break despite the weight of the CMC-300 suit he was wearing. That was because he didn't release the suit's weight upon it. As funny as it sounded, touch control was an obligatory class during training with the combat suit. After all, one couldn't know if he would break a glass or even a non-suited person's hand if he wasn't careful.

The Command Room was large and rectangular, with several workstations bolted across the walls, that monitored communications, data analysis and operating automated defenses installed across the _Harkonnen_ fortress, from the smallest, but reliable Sentry Gun emplacements seen in installations to the large Barrage Cannon turrets being constructed outside. In the walls themselves stood monitors concerning overhead satellite cover of a selected area in Char, be this area the overhead view of the Dauntless Plateau or anywhere else. A second monitor displayed a closer, in-the-field display for combat analysis. In the center of the room, lied the Tactical Map itself, somewhat akin to the Star Map table seen in Battlecruisers, but shorter in height and wide in length and width, as well as two tall holoboards showing, respectively, the map of the interiors of the POC and text squares displaying field reports of the day as well as order sorts. People wearing blue officer uniforms operated the workstations and went on their business as at least four red-clad Marines were guarding the room. On Warfield's side stood his second-in-command, also in red-clad armor, with the slight difference of bearing one golden star on the front of each shoulder piece, Colonel Clancy Richter.

Richter himself was Caucasian but seemed older than Warfield. The evidence was the white mustache, reminding a broom, as well as the white hair that could be seen were not he wearing a helmet. His eyes were blue and his face was wearied by both the passing of time as well as the scars of conflict. Some could say that he was lucky he had survived so much time on the field, forty years in service, wearing the white and then the red, through the open fields of Sonyan in the Guild Wars and then the battle of Mar Sara during the beginning of the First Great War, both the Invasion and Reclamation of Korhal by and from the hands of the United Earth Directorate in the Brood War and the defense of Tyrador VIII in this new war, therefore earning him the 'Horseshoe' nickname.

"Eight transports, contents being equipment, weapons, ammo and personnel, all Hercules-class.", Richter said. "Those odds of the operation to capture Kerrigan, General, what are they now?"

"Ninety-nine percent of failure, Richter.", Warfield answered, deadpan. "Otherwise, this wouldn't have come. And if I asked for any, you can bet that bastard Mengsk would tell me to _make due_."

Richter wasn't a bit surprised, given that fight and the roar Mengsk gave a few days ago when he came. It seems he still didn't forgive the fact one of his Generals had decided to follow the Crown Prince to that madness that was the expedition to Char. A madness that payed off, and now the Dominion had just begun to reap the fruits. The Zerg were now broken, Kerrigan and Raynor were somewhere else and it seemed nothing could stop the Dominion from their now long job of cleaning the messy business that was putting the Queen of Blades out of commission.

"Heard there was some new equipment coming in too.", Richter commented. "I didn't think the Dominion had deployed new equipment this soon. Especially after Valhalla..."

Warfield closed his eyes and tried to breathe deep, attempting to forget the shouting Emperor Mengsk gave to Warfield and the entire high echelon of the Dominion military after the episode in Korhal, in which was included the matter of how a band of pirates managed to breach the most defended weapons testing site in Terran space and devastated it with one of it's weapons.

"They didn't.", Warfield said. "I had to call in favors from old times with Umojans and Kel-Morians. You don't get to be long in my position without making friends in some places."

"I don't think Emperor Mengsk would agree.", Richter said.

"Emperor Mengsk isn't here to get his share of hell.", Warfield answered, bitter. "Besides, despite all he can say, this is not a mission, it's _punishment_. And he's not expecting me to live through this. But, he'll reconsider it soon..."

"What if he never reconsiders?", Richter asked.

"If... _When_ the war restarts, Colonel, he'll have to.", answered Warfield. "If he doesn't, even the military will see it as the last straw. These are the times when I miss the Confederacy..."

"This can be seen as treason, sir!", Richter censored. "The Confederacy ignored the populations when the Zerg first appeared, and you know it!"

"The Old Families may have been bastards all the way along, Richter, but at least they had a degree of respect for their military officers.", Warfield said. "At least, in my old times..."

"General.", called the communications officer. "A transport group is incoming, requesting permission to unload cargo. They say it's your 'special delivery', sir."

"Good, I'll meet them.", Warfield said. "Give them permission to these ones, clear the frontal court if necessary, but have those ships touch the ground."

With this said, Warfield left the room with Richter following shortly after.

* * *

_Thirty Minutes later..._

The looming afternoon in Char held steady as motion continued on the exteriors of the _Harkonnen_ fortress. Commotion continued heavily along the huge fortified space as new features could be seen. Anti-aerial batteries and a sparse landing zone had been constructed and set open for business. The anti-aerial batteries ranged from Missile Turrets with their trustworthy Longbolt heat-seekers to Gatling and Fragmentation Shell turrets, that were mostly effective against Scourge clusters or tight pockets of Zerg flyers. True, the Frag-Shell turret wasn't as effective as missiles or bullets, but it's explosive splash capacity allowed to damage the carapace armor of those flyers, making this type of turret an useful asset, nevertheless. Afar, by the newly built rows of walls with Marines and other soldiers patrolling over them, lied massive towers with four-barreled cannons each. These were the Bombardment Turrets and a much more powerful defensive option to the standard Crucio Siege Tanks, whose Siege Mode was relegated on the fortress to a secondary function, unless the tanks were on an outside mission or the Turrets themselves were destroyed. The Bombardment Turrets, bastardized by lower ranks and non-military as Bombards, fired the same 180mm tungsten shells fired by the Siege Tanks, but specifications as well as the function of only being a fortification emplacement allowed this turret to fire those shells at a greater distance and at a faster rate, almost the firing rythm of a shotgun, than the Crucio.

The landing zone, by the said courtyard, was a large area that was riddled with landed aircraft as well as flying ones, like the helicopter-shaped Banshee, because of it's appearance, akin to a modern-day helicopter with the exception it bore two turbines on it's sides as well as two rocket pods, meant for quick ground bombardment. Some of those Banshees were on the ground, as well as landed Dropships, some colored white with drawn medical crosses in the side wings, denoting them as Medivacs, evacuation ships for wounded to be treated at the fortress or in a Battlecruiser orbiting Char. Since there were no such Battlecruisers orbiting due to Mengsk's order to get as much numbers as possible for that attempt to get Kerrigan, however, _Harkonnen_ was the only place where the wounded could be lifted to. Despite the fact _Harkonnen_ did have medical facilities, they were still on their rustic stages, still to be brought to full efficiency, especially when medical supplies took so long in the military to arrive. Not even when Emperor Mengsk had arrived with the remainder of the Dominion fleet were some of those supplies unloaded. There was also a number of landed Vikings, some in their traditional Fighter Mode while others had already transformed into the infamous mechanoids with twin rotary autocannons, in which pilots and officers call the Assault Mode. Like the rest of the fortress, there was commotion of it's own, but coming in the form of Marines patrolling around and standing guard and technicians in their monkey suits operating some futuristic piledrivers and SCVs, moving the heavy crates filled with equipment and weapons or even organizing some of this same equipment in small, carryable crates and supports.

A huge shadow enveloped the courtyard as a gigantic terran vessel, a rectangular shaped one, was hovering over the seemingly small landing zone. The grittier details combined with the few metallic plating, painted with a different symbol, denoting an independent transport, could be seen as the large, square-shaped unload doors on the vessel's belly opened, revealing an entirely new mechanoid design. This mechanoid, above, was being ferried by a service starship with a claw-like appearance that, despite looking smaller, seemed to carry this cargo without any effort at all. The mechanoid itself was a blocky humanoid and a bit asymmetric, as it bore two legs but only one arm behind a shield-like plating. This arm was humanoid but the said hand was a cannon that more reminded a mace of medieval times. The other arm was a shield plating more larger than the other, with a missile pod set on it's shoulder. The pilot cockpit and visor reminded that of an SCV, although larger.

"They're kidding, aren't they?", asked Warfield, angry, looking as the mechanoids were slowly being put to the ground. "I asked the Kel-Morians the best weapon they've got and they give me _this_!?"

"It's not only the best, General, but also the most sophisticated.", answered the smaller, fat, Caucasian bald figure with a big nose and glasses close to Warfield, named Preed Banks, a merchant from the Kel-Morian Combine. "Despite it's look, I assure you, the Warhound has proven to be quite effective."

"_Against Protoss you mean_!?", asked Warfield, furious. "I'm dealing with ZERG here! This child's toy isn't gonna even scare a Drone, is you ask me!"

"Not even it's Railgun or the Haywire missile pack, which you can set to barrage mode?", asked Preed. "This was developed on Diamondback schematics sold to us, although with better improvements. You can reject them if you want, but remember that favors do expire, General. I may not be able to find something better or something _else_, should I return with them to Moria..."

Warfield closed his eyes in frustration. No doubt he was doing it on purpose, no doubt there were better things than the mechanoids he was now getting, but it was also a troubling issue trying to make that merchant repay the favor. Such was the problem of making negotiation with the Kel-Morian Combine. And the worse was that he could not afford for more brutal, explosive ordinance, which was more effective when dealing with Zerg and their numbers.

"Alright, alright, you'll get your paycheck later, Banks.", spoke Warfield, resigning.

"A wise choice, as always, mister Warfield.", Preed answered, with a smile. "Just be mindful of those, they have no insurance for all I know..."

"_Why am I not surprised_?", asked Warfield, as Preed left, heading to a black Dropship in the hangar, hoarding a square symbol with a K letter above an M letter, both merging together. On the right corner of this square, the border slowly decayed in a cone with separate stripes, forming a drill. The symbol of the Kel-Morian Combine.

"Damn merchants...", Richter spoke, as he came besides Warfield, looking at the Warhounds as two now have touched the ground. "They'd cost us an arm and a leg if they had the chance..."

"So what else is new?", asked Warfield, looking at his mechanical arm. "That's why I want you to wait one hour, than start modifications on these machines, get them into a decent fighting shape."

"Don't you think this might get us problems with the Kel-Morians?", Richter asked.

"Let them complain all they want, but I'm not having one of these fall the first second they meet enemy contact.", Warfield said. "We can modify those hulking wastes of money, can't we?"

"We have crews for that, yes.", Richter answered.

"Put them to work, then.", Warfield ordered, looking across the courtyard until he caught a glimpse of something. "Speak of the devil, wonder what the Umojans brought in."

With this said, Warfield and Richter started walking towards the courtyard, approaching a landed Dropship, a white one. This one could be confused with one of the Medivacs, were not for the fact this one was carrying the symbol of the Umojan Protectorate. The crew inside, mostly people in light gray suits, were unloading crates smaller than those seen through out the courtyard, as Marines using a standard CMC-300 Combat suit, but with the symbol of the Protectorate, stood guard over their ship and men. Amidst those people stood a Caucasian male in a black officer suit, although he had black hair, shorter nose and a beard contrary to the bald, long nosed person Warfield talked with minutes ago.

"Captain Hawkins.", Warfield called, getting the officer's attention. "Welcome to Char."

"General.", plainly said Hawkins.

"I hope you brought something worthy.", Warfield said. "It's not enough what I've had to pass with the Kel-Morians..."

"Believe me, General, I think you'll want those, otherwise I can't help you.", Hawkins said. "It's been real tough to bring this to Char, especially after your Emperor assaulted one of our facilities."

"Mengsk has got too obsessed lately with Kerrigan.", Warfield replied in defense.

"_I mean it, General_!", insisted Hawkins, angry. "You haven't passed by the Umojan-Dominion border as we did, they've positioned a portion of their fleet. Plus, the Protectorate ordered me to cease commerce negotiations with your men, I had to _lie_ to officials just to make it to this place!"

"They've not been here like we did.", Warfield said. "They don't know what we're facing. Now, what have you brought for me?"

"Apart from the newest ammunition sets, I have some new machinery, and you'll first look it an a strange way.", Hawkins answered, gesturing Warfield and Richter to follow him to one of the crates.

Hawkins simply typed in a few numbers in the keypad, apparently set there as the crate's lock. As the handles then opened, unlocking the crate, Hawkins was able to open it, revealing it's contents to the spectators. It only showed a set of four machines of the same design. The machines reminded a spider-like design, with four legs distributed along a slim body. Atop this body lied a bloating turret, reminding that of a tarantula's behind, although it was a mechanical one, with two flaps distributed vertically like antennae. This turret also bore a large, red robotic eye, with small jaws like those of a spider too.

"Judging by it's appearance, I'd say it's an advanced Spider Mine, isn't it?", Warfield asked, reminding the dreaded automated explosive machines still utilized by Terrans in their fights against the Zerg.

The Spider Mine was called so also because of it's appearance, also four legs distributed alongside it's body. The Spider Mine was one of the surviving technologies from Earth, the birthplace of Man, that became most utilized during the Guild Wars, especially when equipped aboard Vulture Hoverbikes, making the out-runners in the Fringe Worlds both feared and respected, by becoming fast-moving minelayers. With a series of motion sensors and an Identification Friend or Foe system, the IFF, the mine, when identifying a hostile Terran or foreign activity, immediately scurries above the ground and lounges to the target, detonating the payload, destroying itself and the target. Although it was reliable, it was also mistrusted amongst Terran infantry because of it's IFF system. The Spider Mine created enough fame of it's own to become a reliable deterrent against the Zerg and even become a cliché horror flick.

"I'd call it a successor.", answered Hawkins. "We call it the Widow Mine, one of the improvements made by the hands of late Victor Kachinsky."

"The murdered Kel-Morian engineer?", Warfield asked, reminding that disgusting 'political' move made by Mengsk to _simplify_ relationships between the Dominion and the Combine.

"Afraid so.", Hawkins answered, frowning his forehead. "Still, it was a very well planned improvement. We have had few to improve on our own when your government commissioned us to do the work. We updated the IFF system and increased motion sensor range, improved auxiliary leg stress and strength, allowing it to perform short-ranged jumps, over small gaps and cliffs, and finally a new feature: No need for periodic power recharge, it carries a small fusion reactor of it's own."

"_Fusion Reactor_?", Warfield asked, curious. "How the hell you managed to hammer a huge power plant inside a small thing like that?"

"Times change, old man.", Hawkins answered. "Things get smaller. I'd say you need to get off the rocking chair once in a while."

Warfield didn't like the joke and made a stern face. Richter, himself, made an effort to not laugh about it.

"No one likes a smart-ass, Hawkins.", Warfield commented. "What of the blast radius? How much it covers when it explodes itself?"

"It doesn't.", Hawkins answered.

Warfield then stared at Hawkins, dead-eye.

"Excuse me?", Warfield asked, upset. "You just said it doesn't _explode itself_? What mine is called a mine when it doesn't detonate and don't come back?"

"Because, actually, it's more of a burrowed defensive system rather than a mine. Let me show you.", Hawkins explained, reaching to the crate, picking up a small rocket, the size and diameter of a cylindrical perfume vial. "This is it's ammunition, one of our best works conceived in Umoja, I might add and being _modest_. The warhead uses a concentrated chemical composition, the name too difficult to describe, along with flammable shrapnel and approximately one microgram of depleted Uranium. It's exclusively developed for Zerg, especially the Ultralisk. It can blow up a layer of carapace, below another layer of carapace and then spread the shrapnel or even _concentrate it_ to drill through the living flesh. However, it also can blow up a cluster of smaller Zerg, surely Zerglings in large pockets, about the blast radius of Siege Tanks. Beautifully elegant, and as deadly as it can get. And since the machine is called Widow Mine, we decided to baptize the ammunition with some similar name. We call it the _Widowmaker_."

"And we just put that thing on the said '_mine_'?", Warfield asked, ironically.

"Eight, approximately.", Hawkins answered. "That's another new feature that'll make this beauty surpass the Spider Mine, it can reload. The problem is exactly the reload time, because of the chemicals. The soup needs time to cook."

"How long?", Richter asked, curious.

"Five minutes, I'd say, Colonel.", Hawkins answered.

"The Zerg can surely overwhelm us in less time than this.", Warfield protested. "So, how much good would those things do?"

"Because I know, like the smart, _experienced_ person you are, you're not just going to depend on those.", Hawkins answered. "These Mines are just a solution, not THE solution."

Warfield frowned his forehead himself in doubt. There wasn't much guarantee indeed that this would be much effective, especially against a head-on Zerg assault, something they excelled much against. But, as Hawkins explained, the warhead's firepower was akin to that of a Siege Tank shell, if not more powerful, so it showed some degree of promise, contrary to that hulking, useless piece of engineering he negotiated early with Preed Banks, so, why not accept?

"Alright, I think I'll need that.", Warfield said. "Is that everything, Hawkins?"

"There's another thing, General.", Hawkins answered. "If you'll please follow me..."

Hawkins then started walking, Warfield and Richter following, across the courtyard, past the Warhound mechs, as pilots already started climbing to the pilot's cabin to pilot them to a nearby service garage. Commotion continued as the gigantic freighter started to move away from the area, meaning only the Dominion and the Umojans remained on the ground.

Hawkins, Warfield and Richter had then reached the other side, meeting a group of smaller mechanoids, about the size of the Marauder combat armor and were mostly red-clad from above to bottom. The figure was humanoid, except it's arms had two futuristic shield plates instead of arms. The legs and footwear also seemed square geometric, contrary to the smooth, round ones seen in other infantry suits like the Marauders, Marines or Firebats. In the stead of a helmet lied a sleek visor glass. But two things were peculiar about this mechanoid: The first was the presence of a turret with a small armored fuel tank in the back, denoting it as a flame-spewing weapon. The second were it's extruded cylindrical shoulder pieces, that heavily reminded wheels in both metal and tire rubber.

Warfield, however, didn't like the appearance, due to the fact there was only one weapon visible and how smaller it was compared to the Warhound.

"Another mech?", Warfield protested, angry. "_And smaller_!? How the hell can we make modifications to it?"

"Simply put, General, _you can't_.", answered Hawkins, whom didn't seem to be disturbed by Warfield's anger. "At least, not without damaging the chassis."

"But how the hell can THIS stand against the Zerg!?", Warfield asked, furious. "Compared to the Warhound, this seems like- Wait a minute..."

Warfield stopped his ranting as he took notice of the details in the suit. The car-like visor. The flame turret. But, especially, the wheel shoulders.

"Is that a_ Hellion_?", Warfield asked.

"_Battle Hellion_, is what we like to call it.", Hawkins answered. "Unfortunately, we've already have some smart-asses of our own whom already bastardized it as the 'Hellbat', both because of it's color and function. It's our newest innovation to our arsenal."

"Innovation means something new or creative, Hawkins.", Warfield said. "This is nothing new or creative, you just got that transformation process we had in the Viking and put it on the Hellion. It's fancy, no doubt, but _fancy_ doesn't hold against your usual Zergling rush."

"I beg to disagree, General.", Hawkins said. "Because this new Hellion design features a new flame dispersion system. It's basically a correction of the flawed flaming system, which already puts the stored fuel for immediate use. Plus, we have reinforced the chassis and heat shielding to avoid unfortunate cooking and damage."

"What is this dispersion system?", Warfield asked.

"As I said, it puts the flaming fuel for immediate use.", Hawkins answered. "It practically allows to spew a continuous and more larger stream of flames, enough to quickly cover entire areas in fire, all without losing the heat intensity. There are two shortcomings to such an advantage, however."

"Besides speed loss, you mean, because it'll walk, and not run?", asked Warfield. "Why's that not a surprise?"

"The first is the loss of range.", Hawkins explained. "We couldn't make the flame spread thicker, larger and afar all at the same. This means the Hellbat is more suited for a close-combat situation, and a rather head-on than your standard hit and run. The second is the dispersion system itself. It seems to display some unknown problem when trying to utilize it in both battle and hellion modes. As a temporary failsafe we installed a security measure that reverts to the original flame-spewing methods of the Hellion."

"Why you couldn't make the dispersion system work on both modes?", asked Richter.

"The Napalm Tanks somehow rip apart and explode.", Hawkins answered, deadpan. Richter and Warfield widened their eyes as Hawkins simply looked at both. "Wish I could've delivered the solution earlier, but there's none so far."

"And what happens if I decide to refuse?", Warfield asked.

"That's the issue, Warfield, you'll have to accept both or refuse both.", answered Hawkins. "I either return to Umojan space with contents full or empty, there's no middle term. You can thank your boss for that."

Warfield closed his eyes in frustration as well. It was not exactly because of the equipment, this was different compared to the Kel-Morians, but because there was both one promising equipment and an uncertain one and he couldn't choose. Well, he could choose, whether to take it all or lose it all.

"Alright, alright.", answered Warfield. "Unload everything, we'll keep them. But his had better be worth it."

"Trust me, General.", Hawkins said. "It will be."

With this said, Hawkins then started to leave, but Richter and Warfield remained behind, watching the said Umojan 'merchant' leave.

"You think this is wise, sir?", Richter asked. "We can very well survive without those."

"Trust me, Richter, I got a feeling we'll need all that.", Warfield answered. "And generally, my feeling is right."

The greatest problem was that Warfield hated the most when he was right.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

"When do we start?", Kerrigan asked, sitting down on the floor of the Nerve Center with her trusted C-20A rifle in her hand, feeling the first warm breeze. It could be as much the breeze of the hot planet Char or the first breeze of war, that would eventually converge into a maelstrom of blood and fire and fury.

She had already been there for a couple of hours, on the wait for her hour to deploy into the field. It was a bit difficult to climb the torn Dropship to pick up her rifle, but she made it, and this time without any tentacle to grab her while she climbed upwards. There was a bit of sense in Izsha's decision to grab her after all, she really couldn't afford a desperate Kerrigan shooting around, trying to breach her way out. But that was the initial burst of fear, as she was already surrounded by such alien beasts and she knew what came afterwards. This time, however, Kerrigan was even _surprised_ by the said hospitality of her new employer. She was well aware Izsha was going to use her to her personal ends. But Kerrigan was alright with that. She could need Izsha to take down the Dominion and it's Emperor, and now the first strike was going to be delivered.

It was going to start with the reclamation of Char, Kerrigan's said 'throne'. A world most feared that now was under the grip of the Dominion whom helped her late loved one to return Kerrigan to her human state. A move that would deliver the message Kerrigan wanted to Mengsk. The message the Swarm has not fallen, and that retribution was just starting. With Char reclaimed, the renegade Broods would be aware Kerrigan has stepped back into the game, even if this was temporary. Hopefully, they'd submit or even get out of her way.

"When we land.", Izsha answered. She, herself, had just been hanging, patiently, on that corner, contemplating the fleshy wall on the front, as well as imagining the conflict ahead.

"And when do we land?", Kerrigan asked. Suddenly, a huge tremor overtook the Nerve Center as Kerrigan almost lost her balance, but Izsha seemed unaffected. If Kerrigan were to be on her feet, instead of sitting down, she would have fell from the experience.

"_We already have._", Izsha answered, with a smirk.

Then, strangely, the frontal wall Izsha was staring at started to move itself, in a rhythm that couldn't be told if it was spasming or convulsing. But then, the upper part of the wall started moving upwards and the lower part starting moving downwards, opening a passage to an orange-red sky and the initial burst of hot air, almost at a boiling temperature.

It was when Kerrigan realized. This wasn't a wall. _It was a mouth_.

She was in the very head of the gigantic beast that held her aloft in space. And now she could see beyond the wall, as she got on her feet and approached the open mouth. She could see the volcanic, almost Hell-ish landscape that it displayed. Massive mountains, shaped like horns and spikes, extended to the skies above diagonally, sat in a dark gray ground, filled with rocks and crags, as small streams of lava ran across some mountains, all converging to the same gigantic lava pool below. Actually, it was more of a lava ocean than a river altogether, with the extension it ran across the giant scenario and around a mound of dark gray land, forming some sort of peninsula.

But then, she saw, above this mound, something stood out from the scene. Man-made constructs. The largest she could see was some sort of futuristic castle keep, with two extending t-shaped towers positioned in a Sphinx-like base. Below it, were a set of fortified walls and some constructs below she could identify. Barracks and Factories, some fortified emplacements and shapes of Missile Turrets, meaning it had some sort of protection, although, seemingly, a minimal. Very unusual, for a military force that should have been guarding the most dangerous world in the Koprulu Sector in actual days. Or, the other option, they were only getting started, meaning now would be a good time to get them while they weren't fully prepared.

"Is that it?", Kerrigan asked, looking at the scene than at Izsha.

"It is.", Izsha answered. "Welcome to Char. And welcome to the Dauntless Plateau, currently occupied the Terran Dominion."

Kerrigan took a few steps, crossing the threshold between flesh and rock, stepping out of the Leviathan.

"Doesn't look like much.", Kerrigan said. "It doesn't even look like it's defended."

"From this point of view, it indeed doesn't, but don't be so quick to judge Warfield's defenses.", Izsha said, contemplating the scenery as well. "Massive artillery and nuclear arsenals lurk behind those walls, as well as enough military reserves to both defend this fortress and launch a massive assault at anywhere, at any time, thanks to the air force he currently possess. Infantry platoons of virtually every type, mechanized and heavy armor divisions, both newcomers and veterans of the Brood War, all always at the ready to deploy."

"So, if they have those reserves, why they didn't attack us yet?", Kerrigan asked, looking back at the humongous size of the beast, that was apparently grounded and even _resting_. "A thing this huge, they'd just need to launch a nuclear missile and be done with."

"That was a bit of a risky move in itself, but these mountains, combined with my landing procedure, have managed to provide us the best cover possible for our landing.", Izsha answered, smirking. "Besides, the Dominion has yet to finish it's thermal sensor systems that would allow them to track us. Right now they are more concerned with immediate Zerg assaults, hence their priority in static defenses and artillery."

"So we can establish a base and slowly prepare for an assault?", Kerrigan asked.

"No.", Izsha declined. "Even though they do not have their sensor net ready, they've spread scouts and spotters in a ten kilometer radius and on the only available land access. We're currently at the threshold of their spotting radius. The moment we established a Hive Cluster, they'd quickly advance a strike force or unleash their nuclear assets."

"What of air assaults or your Nydus Worms?", Kerrigan asked.

"They have emergency teams ready to respond to both contingencies, and our air numbers are few.", Izsha asked. "And without those, we'll lose our shield against a Banshee aggression. We can't take the risk."

"So what do we do?", Kerrigan asked.

"In the meantime, we'll rebuild our strength in the only place _still_ untouched by the Terrans: The cave systems.", Izsha said. "It's where you'll begin. Proceed to the southeast, where there is an empty cavern set."

"_An empty cavern_?", Kerrigan asked, suspicious. "What am I going to in a cavern alone?"

"Kerrigan, I like you.", Izsha started. "You're not questioning, you're not doubting, you're just asking, but even asking _too much_ can bring problems. Besides, I didn't say you were going alone. Now go. You'll meet them when you arrive."

"Them?", Kerrigan asked.

"Your, let's say, 'personal guard'. You can go now.", Izsha concluded, using a hair tentacle to dismiss Kerrigan, as the Ghost lady simply started walking to the right, down the mountain. Izsha simply smiled, as the first steps had already been taken and couldn't be traced back.

Soon, very soon... It'd be showdown time.

* * *

**IN ANOTHER PART OF THE SECTOR...**

The eternal night loomed on this world and beyond as the negative sun shined over the skies of Shakuras. An azure blue and cloudy sky could be seen during the day as stars and equally azure nebulae decorated the night. The ground itself was an eternal desert of blue dirt, with it's cracks, rocks and mud, with shores of blue, but undrinkable water. Even the plants themselves were blue. More than blue, alien, that displayed blue orbs of their own. Foliage could be seen spread over the land, some of which was irrevocably akin to those seen on the Old Earth. Life in itself was scarce, except for the few flyers of the same species that soared over the land of the twilight world.

Such was the case of the creature flying over the land of Shakuras. A Kakaru, a herbivore native avian reptile to this planet. It's appearance was similar to the pterosaur of prehistoric times, with an overextended forehead and beak and reptile wings of it's own, stacked alongside the extension of it's body, to the very tail. However, if there was one thing that separated the Kakaru from other flying animals was the absence of legs, somewhat akin to the Zerg Mutalisk.

The Kakaru had been strafing across that deserted area for what would seem an eternity, but then, gradually, the landscape changed to a man-made one, although the constructs weren't human. These alien structures seemed, in some cases, geometrically human, although most of them reminded the old Greek and Egyptian styles. Others were irrevocably alien, with sleek curves that reminded shells, some extruding and standing out over the rest. Blue glass orbs and running power lines could be seen in most structures. Some were tall, others were too small, but wide, some were of a cone shape, whose tip converged to a giant energy orb, akin to a gypsy oracle's ball. Others were pyramidal or displayed geometric, obelisk-like designs. The one difference most relevant, however, was the color separation between building plating. Some plates were gold-colored while others were silver-colored. In the oldest times, it would be of only one color, either gold or silver. But then time had passed since then, and change was obligatory to occur. So powerful was the factor of survival, that the Protoss of fallen Aiur were forced to abandon old dogma and ally with former '_heretics_', the Dark Templar, as only they could help save their people against the onslaught of the Zerg.

Movement and activity could be seen below, in the streets of the capital Talematros, although there was an absolute lack of commerce. The Protoss were practically oblivious to the commercial practices of Terrans, being mostly a dogmatic and superstitious race. They had no media nor frantic obsession for material possessions like humans did. They mostly preferred to continuously practice their fighting and psionic wielding skills, that made the Protoss the most feared warriors and psionics in the Sector, bested only by the pragmatism of Terrans or numbers of the Zerg, or devoting their worshiping to the idols of old, like Khas, _He Who Brings Order_, formerly known as Savassan, he who united the Protoss tribes at the end of the Aeon of Strife through the return of the psionic bond, lost with the departure of the Xel'Naga whom created them, or Adun, the mightiest warrior or greatest strategist, he whom was venerated amongst the Aiurean for his guile and the Nerazim for his benevolence, for it was the enforcing hand of the late Conclave himself whom granted those who'd not follow the Khala safe passage to outside Aiur. Blue energy of chest armor, Psi Blades and even psionic emanation from High Templar could be seen amongst the commotion of the few thousands still remaining of the decaying race.

The average Protoss was a humanoid larger than the size of a human being, two to three meters tall. The body had digitigrade legs, semi-permeable gray skin covered in scales, four digits in hands, two of which being thumbs, and two digits in toes, broad chests, large enough to house their three hearts, broad shoulders, narrow waists with slim midsections and exposed vertebrae. Their head bore no nose, nor mouth, neither ear, only two glowing eyes and a bony crest, extending from the crown of the head, with nerve cords beneath it, allowing the Protoss to access the psionic gestalt, the link that became the basis to the Khala. While these cords were somehow related to human hair, particularly the Babylonian or African style, they were none of that, albeit they stylized it in trends or thick ponytails, like the Japanese Samurai of oldest times. Male and female Protoss differed their body builds somehow in the same manner as Terrans did, with the male body being stronger and bulkier while the female one was more thin and smoother. Protoss did not have a sense of taste, as they had no mouth, but they could hear and smell through their skin. They also could gain sustenance with their skin through reflected sunlight and even survive without it for extended periods of time. Any little hydration they'd need could also be absorbed through the skin. The Protoss also possessed an absurd life expectancy, in Terran year terms: Their oldest Protoss had more than a thousand years old.

The Protoss, like their structures, had a division of armor plating color and garments. Those whom were of Aiur wore a traditional gold-plated and stylized armor, riddled with fine garments and blue jewelry, that served to both channel the psionic energies they possessed and represent the said _nobility_ of their race. Those from Shakuras, however, had an entirely different, crude style. This could be seen in their ragged garments, silver armor with green jewelry and even mouth masks, be those of loose tissue or wrapped around their said 'mouths', in a style akin to arabic bedouins. Like their jewelry, they emanated an eerie-green psionics, a result of their severance from the Khala and embracing the Void, the energy that made them so pursued and reviled by their people and, ultimately, their saviors during the invasion of Aiur. Some of these Dark Templar seemed to be wearing armor pieces made out of Zerg skulls, namely heads, as prestige for their times of fighting the Swarm and it's unrelentless wrath.

There was even a difference between ships and mechanized walkers, the cybernetic war machines developed to store the crippled bodies of warriors back into the fray. Such was the case of the Stalker and Immortal. Both retained their spider-like walking methods, but both were entirely different from one another. The silver-colored Stalker was sleek and curved, possessing even a large shell-shaped plate as a part of it's armor. It fired carapace-mounted Particle Disruptors, that were slow and not as effective as the more advanced weaponry of the Khalai, but it performed well it's function against ground and aerial targets all the same, as well as an effective skirmish fighter, as it could teleport itself in short distances to effectively evade it's enemies, a technique called by the Nerazim as 'blink'. The block-shaped and golden-colored Immortal, on the other hand, was an improvement to the already existing Dragoon, the suit utilized on Aiur to transplant the crippled war veterans and then return them into battle. The change came with the fall of Aiur, where the shrine dedicated to the creation of Dragoons was infested by the Zerg. Ever since then, and embracing the changes coming before them, the artisans of Shakuras had redesigned the spider-shaped Dragoon into a war machine with a sarcophagus-like turret, with two cannon-shaped Phase Disruptors meant to directly hit the heaviest armor, as well as a special shielding that allowed the Immortal to resist the strongest blast.

Still, despite all differences and the past, despite all grudge and division, they were one. They were Daelaam. And their unity would maintain the Protoss existence, be it through it's advanced technology or it's vast psionic potential, powerful enough to invoke storms out of nowhere, even with clean weather, summon hallucinations to confuse their opponents, and even cloak more effectively, without the need of devices, and even cloaking those _around _them. Their technology was encompassed at their effective warping techniques, summoning armies of warriors at a glance from the most distant worlds or even towering war machines like the Colossus, whose Thermal Lances brought pure devastation to those whom dared test the might of the Protoss.

But even a people so dogmatic, yet advanced, had it's politics. Such was with the Hierarchy, the current government body of those people, that came to replace the Conclave after the Brood War. Six members, each representing a Tribe and one of them speaking for the Nerazim, decided and debated their power struggles in the Hierarchy Assembly, a large closed lotus flower shaped structure that stood out from the rest of the constructs in Talematros, a citadel built by the Dark Templar as a sign of their unity. However, over the years, it has been taking it's decisions for far too longer of a time than usual, even for a Protoss, thus earning a bad reputation for lethargy. Such was the problem with politics, even for aliens.

Such was the problem with Hierarch Artanis, whom was now facing, for the second time, the same topic of that meeting in the Reunion Hall. The second time he mediated the matter concerning the fall of the Swarm, as the Observers had reported days ago in Char, and what to do concerning it. Artanis sat in in a central chair, a golden one filled with blue orbs of it's own and one that stood out from the other seats, with his face covered by his large right hand. It would even look like an alien throne than a chair. Artanis himself utilized more plating and garment than the other Protoss in the room. The torso armor bore a long cape that surrounded his entire body. His helmet entirely covered his head, all but his face, in a manner alien, yet similar to the human helmet designs of Ancient Greece. The other Protoss in the room seemed to wear the same sort of torso piece with a long cape, but their head wear exposed more of their head, some even looking like royal tiaras, although none of those Protoss seemed to bother with such issues. Only the Dark Templar representative seemed to use no cape, only some pieces of garment combined with his armor, the exposed body build making him look like more of a bodyguard than an actual council member.

"Members of the Hierarchy.", spoke a figure walking in the center of the room staring at the other five members, making him the sixth member. "I come before the mighty assembly with only one question: For how long we will _willingly_ commit the errors that may cost the survival of our race? For how long we will allow, _out of volition_, the opportunities presented before us to go unattended? I asked once, and again I insist: Why not permit the reclamation of our fallen homeworld while the time is right? The Queen of Blades has fallen, the Terrans of their Dominion have seen to it! The Broods scatter and bicker, vying for control of the Swarm! And yet, we remain here, _debating_, while our enemies are allowed to recover!"

"And again, Admiral Urun, I disagree with your course of action!", spoke another Hierarchy member. "The Queen of Blades may have fallen, but the Swarm remains strong, the footage of our Observers are too the clear proof of this! Besides, you have already heard the final edict of our Hierarch. Why to continue persisting on this matter?"

"Because 'tis our glory and pride whom now stand at the line, Zekrath!", exclaimed Urun back. "Would you and Artanis further ashame our people by denying the so deserved return of Aiur? Would you and the remainder of this Hierarchy prefer to leave our precious birthplace as a ruin, a mark of our eternal shame?"

"I would rather see it as a_ reminder_, Urun.", the Dark Templar representative said. "A reminder of how the overwhelming pride of the Conclave has cost our people our home."

"But would you rather allow our people to fall again, Mohandar, not out of pride, but out of _sloth_?", Urun replied, angry. "Kerrigan has been destroyed, but this advantage may not last longer!"

"She has not fallen, Urun.", Mohandar said. "The Templar can still feel her presence. She is weakened, but not destroyed. _And she is not alone_."

"With whom she may be, then?", asked Urun, defiantly. "And why not destroy her for good? Or, better yet, deliver her to just trial for her crimes?"

"I doubt you would even make a just trial, Urun.", provoked another Hierarchy member. "You and the Golden Armada would prefer to rather incinerate her in a public venue."

"For one of her deeds, such death would not be enough, Tabrenus.", Urun replied. "And my question was not answered yet. Mohandar stated she was not alone. But with whom? Has she returned to the Swarm, like the concubine of the fallen Overmind that she is, or she is under the custody of James Raynor, the Terran coward whom lacks the courage to carry out justice!?"

Suddenly, Artanis immediately went on his feet, getting up from the chair with an expression of insult and fury, facing Urun. That Templar may rant all he would want, but he would not carry the insult to a fellow Terran ally unattended.

"I will not accept, nor _tolerate_ your cowardly defamation of one of our greatest allies and collaborators, Urun!", Artanis said, angry. "I have been with James Raynor during the invasion of Aiur, at the side of discredited, yet mighty Tassadar, and I say he has done much more for our people than any Protoss we've ever encountered, and this includes your Auriga Tribe, Admiral! Unless you can point us someone other whom assisted us also in the final battle against the Overmind, four sunturns ago! Or another whom shielded our people against the ravaging Zerg as they retreated to this world! Or another whom stood with us as we fought to save Tassadar himself from an almost occurred injustice!"

"You also do not know with whom she is with, Urun, and neither I.", Mohandar said. "The Queen of Blades can so much be in company of Raynor's allies as she can be under the custody of the Dominion he assisted, shielded by their psionic agents."

"Even so, it would be _obligatory_ of the Terran savior to report her fall.", spoke Urun. "As it was his obligation to deliver her to us, should he have her in his possession. The blood of Aldaris, Fenix and especially Raszagal demands it!"

"The Terran would never deliver her, Urun.", Zekrath said. "He is too emotionally compromised with her to allow said judgment."

"In my opinion, it is much better for the female to be with another Terrans, preferably ones we can rely, rather than with the Swarm.", Mohandar said. "Without Kerrigan, the Swarm can be fought. Without her, the Zerg cannot fight our power, as they bicker one another."

"Exactly, Mohandar!", Urun exclaimed in agreement. "Hence my insistence in the reclamation of Aiur!"

"But even if we could reclaim our homeworld, how long could we hold it against the next Zerg incursion, should there be a new one?", asked Tabrenus. "Should we not firstly weaken the Swarm to then reclaim Aiur without fear?"

"And spreading our Golden Armada far more than we have spread?", Zekrath asked. "Compromising the security of Shakuras in feeble attempts to destroy the ever-replenishble numbers of the Swarm?"

"They can replace their numbers, Zekrath, but not their Brood Mothers.", Tabrenus answered. "They are not riddled by said '_immortality_', like the Overmind and the Cerebrates of the past. Once they are destroyed, they fall forever, and the Broods fall with them as well!"

"The Brood Mothers may not be the highest of our concerns, Tabrenus.", Urun said. "Our Observers have also detected numbers of the largest Zerg known in the Sector. A new, humongous strain, capable of defeating entire fleets. The Terrans call them _Leviathans_, a reference to a gigantic beast in their mythologies. A creature so powerful, and not only because of it's massive tentacles, that can tear the mightiest ship apart. It can spit bile and acid of all sizes, capable of destroying entire ships with a single blow. Not only this, but the creature, apparently, can spawn Zerg of it's own. Entire forces of Scourges, Mutalisks and Corruptors have been seen leaving _directly_ from this creature. 'Tis not only a fighting strain, but a moving Hive Cluster as well. And with such power, no world is safe from the foul touch of the Zerg. No world at all."

The room remained silent at the aftermath of Urun's tale. Some time passed before it was broken.

"You seem to know much of this beast, more than even ourselves, Urun.", Artanis said. "May I inquire how?"

"One of our Observers tracking the Terran vessel Hyperion has detected the entire Dominion fleet attacking such a beast on a desert planet. Only their mightiest weapon of war, the Yamato Cannon, seemed to provoke enough damage to such creature. Before it was unleashed, however, it could devastate a portion of their ships.", Urun said. "If you desire, Hierarch, I can deliver you the footage. Still, this does not change the fact that spreading our Golden Armada may deliver our very doom, as these creatures can destroy our fleet piece by piece."

"Would it not be the same with the reclamation of Aiur?", Artanis asked back. "Sacrificing our strength in favor of conquering a world, _even if it is our homeworld_?"

"_A grand gesture, I say, Hierarch_!", Urun exclaimed, angry. "Our credibility is in shambles and our continued debating has already raised questioning amongst the populace! And need I remember why one of our own _refuses_ to attend _most_ of our meetings!?"

Artanis closed his eyes and let out a sigh in frustration. That is, if Artanis had a nose or a mouth to breath on, but the expression could give an idea. Perhaps Nahaan, the absentee Assembly member and representative of the Ara Tribe, was right on his opinion, that the continued debating, akin to that of the Conclave predating the invasion, was bringing very little to no results. Hence, the lack of popularity of the Hierarchy, even if it was the final threshold standing between the people they represent, the species that wish little to no good to the Protoss and the fanatical cults like the Tal'Darim.

"Even so, a grand gesture that demands the sacrifice of all, if not most, of our power is _senseless_, in both rethoric and strategy.", Artanis answered back. "Even more against such horrific creatures. What can then be done about this?"

"I already have.", Urun answered. "As Tabrenus may confirm, I have commissioned the Furinax Tribe with a request for a new vessel design. One that can deliver proper damage to such a beast, making viable our advance against the Swarm."

"You would entrust the Furinax with such a responsibility?", Zekrath said. "_Even more after what occurred with the PAX_?"

The very mention of the lost Protoss research facility, a result of an out-of-control experiment, had made Tabrenus livid.

"You dare question the integrity of our Tribe!?", Tabrenus asked, infuriated.

"I dare, Tabrenus!", Zekrath said. "More so, I_ insult_ you!"

"**ENOUGH!**", Artanis roared. "I declare this to you once, this is not a day I am in the mood to bear or tolerate the slightest sign of bickering in this Hall! As for the matter concerning the fall of Kerrigan and what to do about it, I have already considered both suggestions from Urun and Tabrenus and rejected both once, and I do so again! You, Urun, and the populace outside may question the integrity or activity of this Assembly, but neither you, or the gods or even the fallen spirit of Tassadar will ever have me rashly risk the power of our Great Fleet, and thus bring upon us a defeat worse than the ones we already suffered in the Brood War! I trust my point is clear to you?"

The Protoss in the Reunion Hall, even Mohandar, whom had said little to nothing wrong, had lowered their heads, both in reverence and regret.

"Good.", Artanis said. "Tabrenus, in further matters, I also agree a solution to the threat of the said 'Leviathan' must be found. Therefore, I approve Urun's commission for this new type of vessel, which the Golden Armada should immediately adopt when completed. May the gods guide you in such task. For the time being, I adjourn the meeting."

With this finalized, Artanis returned to sit on the central chair as a loud bell boomed and the five other members dispersed and went their respective ways. Urun himself proceeded to the main entrance access to the Reunion Hall. Crossing this access, that led to a long, golden arc hall, Urun's eyes caught the sight of a female Protoss figure, with blue eyes and smooth body features, wearing a smooth chest armor with two black capes that covered both front and behind of her waits, despite the fact Protoss lacked sexual organs. Her chest armor, like most Protoss, bore a central blue jewel set in a base, connecting two proportional diagonal metal arcs that traveled to the back of the armor. Her headwear, unlike other Protoss, however, was wide open to the sides, like the wings of an avian, covering the sides of her face.

"And again he refuses to take action.", said Selendis, High Executor to the Hierarchy and acting commander-in-chief of the Daelaam warriors.

"Indeed, Selendis.", Urun said. "I wonder what stays his once impulsive hand."

"The last eons have been a toll upon us all, Admiral.", Selendis said, starting to walk across the long hall. "Especially Artanis. One so young such as him did not have to assume such a burdening position."

"Despite our defeat in the Brood War, he still remains known and sympathetic amongst warrior-kind for his services beside mighty Tassadar.", Urun explained, keeping up the slow pace with her. "Were not for Zeratul to have vanished since the death of the Matriarch, he could have passed on this mantle of responsibility."

"Responsibility that now stays the hand of Artanis, hence his reservation.", Selendis concluded.

"I have been long with Artanis as you have so, perhaps longer.", Urun said. "He would not simply let go of this opportunity to take advantage of the Queen of Blades' fall, be it in my request to reclaim Aiur or Tabrenus' suggestion to weaken the Swarm by eliminating it's Brood Mothers. It is like he is sparing our strength for some... Unforeseen conflict, some threat that is _still_ to appear..."

"Zeratul himself has been pursuing rumors concerning some hidden threat, some prophecy talking of '_one who shall break the cycle of the Gods_'.", Selendis said. "At least, this is what the survivors of the expedition to Ulaan have informed me."

"Rumors, and nothing more, Selendis.", Urun dismissed. "With our enemies approaching more and more at our borders at every day, it is ill-advised to pursue superstitions, the same, if not worse, that have ensured the downfall of the Conclave. It is better now to focus at the present threat, that are the Zerg. Especially now, with this new gigantic beast that threatens our might."

"Fortunately, Artanis has approved the commission asked to the Furinax.", Selendis said. "I can only hope the Furinax do not disappoint."

"They will not, but this is not our current concern.", Urun said. "You know how much compromised is the Hierarchy because of Artanis' lack of action. I plan to bring something positive to our people, to demonstrate we _are_ taking action."

Selendis simply stopped, then stared at Urun, whom stopped too.

"Elaborate.", she said.

"It is nothing grandious, but a simple expedition to a distant, frozen moon, known as Kaldir.", Urun said. "One of the several Observers I dispatched has discovered a small Zerg Brood, under the command of a simple Brood Mother, has settled in that moon. The motive is unknown, as the moon itself possesses little to no precious resources and is not a staging point to any potential target, be it Protoss or Terran."

"Then why such behavior from a Zerg Brood, where they must see utility in all their conquests?", Selendis asked.

"Not even myself can tell, but what matters is that a Brood Mother is stranded alone and afar from the reach of other Broods.", Urun answered. "This information was also not yet disclosed to the Hierarchy. This can allow us to act."

"The Hierarch will not approve such a move involving the Golden Armada.", Selendis commented.

"I do not plan to involve our fleet.", Urun said. "Only one ship. Our Ark."

Selendis widened her glowing eyes.

"_He will definitely not approve, then_!", Selendis exclaimed, surprised and upset. "The Daelaam Ark is our largest vessel, and the precious carrion of the Armada! Artanis will doubtless notice when such a mighty vessel is gone to a war operation."

"Not a war operation, Selendis.", Urun said. "A _scientific expedition_, I would say."

Selendis simply remained quiet for a moment.

"Do you realize that _lying_ to the Hierarchy can have serious consequences?", Selendis asked. "Not only for yourself and me, but for the Armada as well!?"

"The Hierarchy is in serious issues with credibility, Selendis.", Urun said. "In order to even maintain unity and control, we _nee_d grand gestures, we need proof to our people that the Hierarchy is doing something!"

Selendis simply stared at Urun.

"And I am to _lead_ such a 'scientific expedition'?", Selendis asked.

"I am afraid you cannot.", Urun answered. "Your absence would be noted by Artanis and questions would arise. Then, everything would be complicated. No, for this I am assigning one of my trusted Executors, Raseac, for such venture. I will only have to dismount our sacred Colossi I have assigned, to have them shadowed with the research cargo the Ark will have to carry."

"Would the Hierarchy not notice?", Selendis asked. "Especially those who would dismount it?"

"I have took care of this, I assure you.", Urun said.

Selendis then remained quiet.

"I hope then you know what you are doing, Urun.", Selendis said. "For all our sakes."

"Believe me, Selendis.", Urun said. "I do know."

* * *

**COMMANDER'S QUARTERS, WHITE STAR**  
**CLOSE PROXIMITY TO DYLAR IV, PRIMARY DOMINION STAGING FACILITY**

Commotion had been occupying the corridor, between officers and crewmembers, as Nova had simply been standing before the access door that led to the quarters of the ship's Captain, Ethel Hardscape. He had summoned Nova for some reason, probably a briefing her employer, Emperor Mengsk, had ordered him to deliver her. It seemed the Emperor didn't forgive her for all that occurred in the raid to the Umojan research facility, and it didn't seem he was going to forgive her anytime soon. Her face was a bit battered from the lack of sleep, despite the fact she was suited up and prepared for the next dose of action. All those dreams, _memories_, as the nightmarish version of Gabriel Tosh liked to tell her, have been haunting her non-stop now. She wanted to perform the memory wipe procedure before meeting the Captain, but the medical ward had been closed. This meant she would have to wait until she could head there freely and thus, after the procedure was done, be able to carry on through the day.

The access door then opened, as she saw the spartan state quarters of the ship's officer. Apparently he was not one with a taste for luxuries, unlike the Emperor whom remained aboard the White Star, for the time being. According to comment from the ship's crew, the Emperor had been housing there, for the lack of a better option. But now, the Emperor was more occupied on the more luxurious, golden-clad bridge, leaving the quarters back into Hardscape's hands. The Captain himself was sitting at the chair behind the gray desk, awaiting Nova. The Ghost walked in as no greeting or saluting was done.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?", Nova asked, as she approached the desk.

"Have a seat, Agent Terra.", Hardscape asked, gesturing at the empty chair before her.

"I'm fine on my feet, sir.", Nova answered, wanting to dismiss the pleasantries and get to the point. Hardscape briefly looked at her and then picked up a thin black file, delivering it to her.

"The Emperor had me deliver this to you.", Hardscape said, plainly. "Your new assignment. You're going back to hunting Spectres. Briefing for your first task is inside too."

Nova picked the file and opened it, briefly reading the contents and turning a few pages. She then closed the file, but kept it.

"When do I start?", Nova asked.

"As soon as we dock.", Hardscape answered. "There'll be a Dropship waiting for you to commandeer."

"What of the Kerrigan issue?", she asked.

"The Emperor doesn't want you involved anymore.", Hardscape answered. Nova simply stared at him for some time. "Don't bother insisting. He hasn't forgiven it. Yet.", he added.

"I figured.", Nova answered. "Otherwise, he'd be delivering it to me personally. Anything else?"

"No, I think that is all.", Hardscape answered. However, he also noticed Nova's wearied expression. "Are you alright, miss Terra? It doesn't seem like you've slept well."

"I did, sir.", Nova answered. "Don't worry about me."

"You're one of our best, we have every right to worry.", Hardscape answered. "And I know a wearied person when I see one."

"It's nothing, Captain.", Nova dismissed. "Just some stupid nightmares."

Hardscape then closed his eyes, looked down and let out a sigh in resignation. It didn't seem she was wanting to go further. He then looked at her.

"Just be careful out there, Agent.", Hardscape said. "Dismissed."

Nova then turned around and headed to the exit, carrying that file. Hardscape simply remained there, with some particular worry concerning a Ghost, even though he wasn't her superior officer.

Something was going on, concerning these said 'nightmares'. And it clearly was affecting her physical behavior, and, worsefully, her operating capacity.

* * *

**_HYPERION_ BRIDGE**  
**HIGH ORBIT OVER HAVEN**

The view of a blue planet, with oceans and lush green landscape, somehow reminding of old Earth, had decorated the space view that Matt Horner was looking at from the viewing window on the bridge. The space itself was blue, with some pink coloring, doubtless from a red nebulae somewhere, that further turned magical the view of this planet. This Haven. A world once unclaimed that became a literal home to the refugees afflicted by the war. Refugees the Dominion did nothing to help. Refugees from a farming colony that were left to die. Refugees the Zerg and the Protoss tried to destroy. But they lived, and they owed their survival to the Raiders.

The same Raiders that were now working on the bridge, going about their usual business. Despite the fact the _Hyperion_ was crowded with Dominion and Umojan personnel, none were inside the bridge. Horner didn't allow it, especially the Dominion people and, _especially_, Prince Valerian. A small sight of the transmission panel, either in the communicator or the Star Map table would be enough to round up questions, especially from the woman Horner was about to call. They wouldn't forgive the Dominion so soon. It was better to go slowly, the way things were right now.

"Sir, we're within transmission range.", spoke Hall, as she got Horner's attention. "Should I call them now?"

"Do it.", answered Horner, as he got off the window and headed to the Star Map table. The Cartesian navigational globe had then disappeared to be replaced with the holographic transmission screen, that displayed a female woman who doubtless was the representative of the planet's populace. She had a smooth, almost angelical face, somewhere along the mid-twenties, with green eyes wearing glasses and a brown hair stuck with a ponytail. She wore a trademark white coat with a sweater beneath it, denoting her as either a scientist or a medic.

"_Horner_?", asked Doctor Ariel Hanson, the said scientist, surprised. "This- This a surprise! Did you heard what happened to Jim?"

"You watched that too?", Horner asked back.

"The broadcast went across all Terran worlds in the Sector.", Hanson answered, a nervous, fearful expression growing within her. "Is it true? Is- Is Jim..."

"He is. I'm sorry, Ariel.", Horner answered, sadly.

"_My..._", Ariel started, but couldn't continue as a surge of pain and a desire to mourn had grown within her. Horner could understand the pain. She'd been aboard the _Hyperion_ during the refugee crisis. During her time as the Raiders' guest, she worked on the lab or the medical bay, updating the facilities and research besides the other chief scientist, Egon Stetmann. Before her arrival, the science and medical facilities were in a 'medieval' condition. She came to head on quite nicely with the crewmembers of the ship, particularly Raynor. Some could even say both had something going on, judging by first looks, but Horner knew better. He wouldn't trade Kerrigan for someone else, even though she was the most dangerous woman in the Sector. He _couldn't_.

"My sympathies.", Horner said.

"What...", Ariel started, trying to gather up whatever strength she had to talk. "What can we do to help?"

"Don't you want to let it out, Ariel?", asked Horner. "We can wait."

"Please, Horner... just _don't_.", Ariel said. "Just tell me what do you need."

"There's something you can help us.", Horner said. "It's about the place where they got Jim. There are refugees from that place we have aboard, and we can't take them everywhere with us. If you may allow it, they'll stay there and settle until their people come to pick them up."

"And I imagine they're not criminals, either?", Ariel asked, sorrowfully, a tear running across her right eye.

"They're just scientists, Ariel.", Horner answered. "Good people too."

"Well, I...", Ariel started, trying to recover. "I think I can manage some temporary space for them. But won't this bring any trouble?"

Horner let out a sigh.

"I don't know.", he answered. "But we can't leave them somewhere else either."

"Okay, I'll... I'll see what I can do.", Ariel answered. "I'll call later, okay?"

"I'll be here, Ariel.", Horner said, as he pressed a button on the Star Map table, cutting communications. He closed his eyes shut, only wondering how much the doctor lady was crying right now at the news.

"Warn me when she calls back.", Horner ordered. "I'll find Stratton."

With this, he walked towards the bridge's access door. That was aiming to be a long day.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

The hot temperature of Char, seeming somehow like an eternal summer, was enough to make Kerrigan sweat, both on her forehead and somehow beneath her skimpy environment suit. Even the breeze and wind currents were hot, and not showing any sign of cooling at all. Perhaps she could find some in the caves she was headed, as she carried her rifle and walked across the seemingly unreliable mountainous path, as she gazed the dark gray scenery around her, as well as the Terran fortification the mainland Kerrigan was stepping across surrounded it. As she could gain a different angle of sight from the fortress, her eye caught new, four-barreled shaped cannons afar. Doubtlessly some sort of anti-air battery, if not artillery. Something she'd have to do something about in the future. The ground she stepped was rough and equally, uncomfortably warm, which only contributed to her sweating. Still, strangely, Kerrigan didn't feel any thirst at all. Either it was her training as a Ghost kicking in, or her other Zerg side had contributed to that she'd only feel thirst when she really needed it. Still, like every other person, she'd need water sooner or later. At least, a drinkable water source, if any could be ever found on Char.

The girl herself seemed, at the same time, worried and not worried. She wasn't worried about what she had to do, Izsha had already told her that. Yet, she was concerned on how was she going to do it. How she was going to reclaim Char and bring the Brood Mother, called Za'gara, back into the fold. She let out a heavy breath as she started to step down a steep pass, on the path to the cave system.

"What a place, Sarah.", she said to herself, ironically. "What a _wonderful_ place you picked to be your throne. Maybe you should just jump into that lava puddle and get it all done with. Not to mention I have to take it back, with just a rifle and all the gut in the world, but I don't know how. And Izsha will want a result. I must be out of my mind..."

'_Don't worry, Kerrigan._', a soft feminine voice, belonging to Izsha, then boomed in her head. '_I know that feeling..._'

Kerrigan stopped in her tracks and looked around her. Now this was something she didn't expect, as she heard this new voice, still she wasn't being followed and it couldn't have come from her earpiece. She then let out a sigh.

"And now I've got her voice on my head!", she said to herself. "_Great..._"

'_Well, if it's any consolation, you're not getting crazy or anything._', Izsha's voice then said again in her head.

"What the!?", Sarah asked, upset. "Izsha, you're... How-"

'_For crying out loud, you're the most powerful psionic in the galaxy and you never knew you could do that? That's a first!_', Izsha said, insulted. '_Oh, well, get used to it. We Zerg basically use psionics as our communication methods. We were made with that, and we don't have many earpieces and other Terran equipment lying around. Not to mention those and Zerg liquids don't exactly make a good mix._'

"Yeah, just what I needed, now you can talk to me anytime you want and _I can't shut the radio down_.", Kerrigan said, frustrated as she started walking again. "And I suppose you can _look through my eyes too_, can't you?"

The sarcastic question made Izsha let out a chuckle.

'_Don't be ridiculous now, Kerrigan._', Izsha said. '_I can't do that, I'm just watching you through an Overlord nearby. As for the radio thing, no, you can't. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want you to. For all I know you can just run around wild out there._'

"I thought you agreed that you wouldn't interfere on how I'd do the job.", Kerrigan answered, angry.

'_And I did._', Izsha replied. '_I just like to keep a tight watch on things too important to not to._'

"Well, since we're talking, then, are you going to tell me what am I going to do in a cave?", Kerrigan asked.

'_And wanting to spoil the fun so soon?_', Izsha asked, surprised. '_I said I'd tell you when you arrived, not midway headed there._'

"But I thought you'd use me for something important, especially a first assignment of a sort!", Kerrigan protested.

'_Calm down, little girl._', Izsha said, trying to contain her. '_This is important. And, given your current condition, I'd plan this for later, were not for current circumstances._'

"_Delightful._", Kerrigan answered, sarcastically.

'_You're welcome._', Izsha said, sarcastically too.

* * *

**AGAMEMNON BRIDGE**  
**IN CLOSE PROXIMITY TO DYLAR IV**

The planet Dylar IV was no more different in comparison to other desert worlds like Phaeton or Mar Sara. It was practically a yellow, sometimes orange, ball of dust, filled with dirt, dunes, crags, canyons and very little to no water. It orbited a crimson red nebulae space that decorated the eternal night of the stars. This world presented little in resources and population to any major Terran faction, such as the Terran Dominion.

Still, however, it was an important location, because of not what was on the planet, but on it's orbit. It was because of it's shipyards. The Dylarian Shipyards. A gigantic set of flat platforms, tethered together into a massive station, fit for constructing and refitting the workhorse Battlecruisers of the Dominion. Platforms riddled with repair stations meant for smaller vessels and transports as well as living hubs and deposits for mineral ore and Vespene Gas, connecting drydocks where the repair and construction of the larger vessels were performed. Gun and Drakken Laser Cannons could be found as well in certain areas of the Shipyard, meaning this was a place of vital importance to the Dominion Fleet. The Dominion didn't own this platform since it's creation. It was created by the Confederacy prior to the Guild Wars, serving as the housing and rearming location for the bulk of the Confederate fleets. It only faltered once on it's defense, when the United Earth Directorate first arrived and even stole the Battlecruisers of the Dominion fleet, four years ago.

That was the sight that caught Captain DeForrest's eye as he looked through the viewing window of the _Agamemnon_, in the bridge's frontal wing. He'd been like this for some time, keeping things under control, as he and his aide, Rowle Atkins, shared this bridge with Lilith Daniels and Feud Thorne. At least, until the ship has docked, where the crew would then transfer to another vessel. One would normally be disturbed for having it's command shared, but DeForrest and Lilith have been going on well with the job. That meant command was now more easy and control was not softer or tighter, but just right.

But someone else was standing by the Star Map table. Greta Keitel, Commander of the Sküld Valkyrie Wing, had been waiting there for the other guests to arrive. She had already been delivered the first news earlier, compared to the others. She was simply there as requested.

The access door then opened, showing two figures in a renewed shaped and in their gray formal suits. Keitel simply smirked as Henderson and Litvak entered the bridge. Lilith and Thorne were caught in attention, as did DeForrest, as he started to walk down the front wing and to the Star Map table. Henderson and Litvak, however, didn't change their mood. As a matter, Henderson became a little bit more worried at the sight of the smiling German at him.

"I don't like this.", muttered Henderson. "Better not be I think it'll be."

"I'd lose my hope, if I were you.", Litvak muttered back.

"Good you're here.", Lilith said, as both approached and then stopped. "I wanted to get this done with when we boarded our new ship, but I thought it best to early the work."

"Does this concern our service sheet?", asked Litvak, predicting the news. The captains and their officers were surprised, alothough they did not change their expression.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, it does.", DeForrest said. "I actually have two news. The first is that now you and the crew of the _Wrath_ are now officially members of our group. The second is that we will have full fighter reinforcement support."

"Concerning that beast, sir, I'd say it's not much, but not too few either.", Henderson said.

"Yes, well, that is the problem.", DeForrest said. "We have had a little issue concerning squadron support. In order to take all the offered squadrons to us, we've had to... Well... _Manage_ some space allocation. Particularly concerning your and our squadrons."

Henderson himself started making a despondent face, meaning he knew what this meant. Still, even though the said 'space' problem was a good motive, it could be done with someone else.

"So...", Henderson started, hesitating and already assuming the worst. "Does... Does this mean..."

"Yes, mister Henderson.", Thorne said, gesturing to Keitel. "Meet your new partner."

"Wing Commander Keitel says you have already met, isn't it, miss Keitel?", DeForrest asked.

"_Jä, mein herr._", Keitel said. "Albeit, though, a bit briefly..."

"Along with miss Keitel and her Sküld Valkyrie Wing, we are also integrating the Shadow Wraith Squadron as well.", Lilith said. "They are also experts in their craft. Our ship will virtually become the veteran berth of the group."

"Well, Captain, with all due respect, I can't see how we can be vet-", started Litvak, when she was interrupted.

"You have outlived the combat experiences in Phaeton, as well as you, together and along with miss Keitel, acquired sixty-three confirmed kills.", Thorne said. "Were not for the appearance of the giant Zerg beast, this would not count, but the situation changed."

By then, Litvak and Henderson said nothing concerning the matter. DeForrest then looked at Henderson and noticed he was somewhat nervous.

"Something you'd like to share, mister Henderson?", DeForrest asked. "You seem quite... _uncomfortable_ with the news."

"No, it's nothing, sir.", Henderson said, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"It doesn't look like, _herr_ Henderson.", Keitel said, gently, turning then to DeForrest. "'zis always happens to him, _Kapitan_."

"What is it, Lieutenant?", Lilith asked.

"Well, then, sir, _is it really necessary_?", Henderson said, losing patience. "Do I really have to serve alongside someone I don't know and I'm not sure of? Could you not simply arrange a _transfer_ for us, then?"

"The way you're speaking, mister Henderson, is enough for you to arrange a week in the brig!", Thorne said, clearly angry. "We are not in a self-service restaurant and you're not a costumer."

"Actually, Thorne, we can transfer him and miss Litvak, though not to another ship.", Lilith said. "I heard that cleaning duty is requiring some additional manpower support, especially with the burden of cleaning the waste disposal _twice_ a day."

"_You'd transfer me too_!?", Litvak protested. "But, Captain, I didn't-"

"It's the decision, Litvak, and it's final.", Lilith said. "So you either get over with whatever tantrum you both have with Wing Commander Keitel and you work with her, or you don't work at all. _And won't get paid_. I trust I'm crystal clear in this private matter, mister Henderson?"

Henderson closed his eyes in frustration.

"Yes, ma'am.", Henderson said, defeated.

"Good.", Lilith said, sternly. "And, if you hope to remain in service, this had better be the first and _last_ time we discuss this matter. You'll receive your first briefings tomorrow by 0930. Dismissed."

With this said, Henderson and Litvak, reeking defeat, had started to walk back and then turn around to leave. What disturbed Henderson, however, is that Keitel didn't seem little bit offended by Henderson's attempt at refusal. She simply maintained that sweet smirk. After seeing that, he simply approached to whisper at Litvak.

"When can you bring in the airlock?", he asked.

"That'll have to wait.", Litvak answered. "Otherwise they'll know we did it."

* * *

**TALEMATROS SHIPYARD, SHAKURAS**

Much like it is the way with Terrans, Protoss had shipyards of their own, meant to constructing or refitting the golden or silver plated warships of the feared Golden Armada. Drydocks and hubs, despite their sleek, alien style, could be seen across the scenery of the vast Talematros Shipyard, the primary staging ground for the Protoss spacecraft that served the Daelaam. Unlike the Terrans, however, it could not be seen any servo or welding arms, no pipelines or vents, or even storage or transportation means other than either on foot or the warp pads that would teleport the crews directly aboard the vessels. Most of the service, even the carrying of Mineral chunks and Vespene Gas stored in transportable box shaped crystals, seemed to be performed by the dozens, if not hundreds, of shell-shaped Probes hovering above the heads of the Protoss crowd occupying the venues below. A crowd that ranged from civilians like artisans and craftsman, most bearing the hammer-like symbol of the Furinax Tribe, to warriors and even High and Dark Templar, whom generally served as elite officers or even ship captains. Most of the drydocks seemed to float on the sky without any need for supports, with the medium to large ships being held amongst them for the services being performed on them. Be it either the silver colored Void Ray, an assault warship that unfolded it's frontal stabilizers surrounding a floating crystal, like the petals of a flower, to unleash an energy beam of pure destruction, or the huge shell-shaped, golden-colored Carriers, the mighty warships and command vessels of the Protoss, who stored groups of Interceptors whom would devastate targets, large or small, that threatened it's home ship. Smaller ships, like fighter shaped Scouts and Phoenixes, patrolled the skies above in formations akin to human ones, as medium-sized Shuttles traveled towards the landing pads nearby.

What stood out from the remainder, however, was the larger drydock, that reminded human designs, apart from it's plating color and sleek appearance. This drydock housed a gigantic vessel, one even larger than the already feared Carrier, and also gold-plated. Riddled in scaled metal plates with blue lights beneath and a huge glass orb in it's supposed frontal bridge, denoting it as some sort of cannon. The design was sleek with wing-like flaps spread in curved lines of the ship. From a certain view angle, it could be denoted as a gigantic robotic humpback whale, although covered in metal and with several, quasi immobile flaps. This was the Daelaam Ark, the mightiest and most feared Protoss starship ever created for the war against the Zerg. Unfortunately, this was the only ship as well, as mass fabrication demanded resources, manpower and time the Protoss could not spare. The Ark was actually both a prototype and a demonstration of power of the Daelaam, bearing side Phase Cannons that fired brief, but powerful beams of destruction, along with hangar bays meant for Protoss aircraft and Interceptors. The huge glass orb was not a weapon, but the viewing deck of the vessel, as the true prismatic cannons lied below the plate holding it.

It was truly, for Selendis, a view to be admired, but she had no time for that. She hoped she could encounter and deliver some final words with Executor Raseac before the Ark departed. But with so many Protoss walking alongside the venues and the main courtyard, it was practically a _difficult_ endeavor. Apart from a few Protoss that could be visually recognized, with their unique shoulder plating and garment, like Zeratul, the remainder required a psionic recognition, a gift the Protoss had. Commotion was heavy that hour, given most of the warriors and a required number of civilian Protoss were embarking the Ark for the supposed 'scientific expedition'. Yet, only a few would inquire why so many warriors and even Colossi parts stored in crates were _needed_ for a simple task.

As Selendis could arrive at the sparse courtyard, she could get an easy view of the one she has seeking to meet. Raseac was a High Templar like many other, without any feature denoting him from the rest, as the position of Executor was akin to that of a commander. He wore little armor and most garment, save for the pieces in his feet and hands and the torso armor, that bore two arcs with lights and a long cape with the symbol of the Daelaam, reminding a moon within a moon, as well as the sail-shaped emblem of the Auriga Tribe, the main force behind the Golden Armada. His helmet had no cover backwards, rather becoming a crown than an actual head wear. He was talking with another Protoss with his own chest plate and head wear, although this one's chest armor was more broad than another. As Selendis approached both, they caught notice of her.

"En Taro Tassadar, esteemed Selendis.", greeted Raseac, cordially. "Clearly, we had not expected you to grace us with your presence."

"Dispense the pleasantries if you desire, Raseac.", Selendis answered. "I trust Admiral Urun has informed of the purpose of this expedition. May I inquire how many know of this venture as well?"

"None but you, Urun and myself are aware of the true nature of the task.", Raseac answered. "The remainder should be informed when we arrive to Kaldir."

"Good.", Selendis said. "It would not be wise to allow the nature of this task spread so soon. The Hierarch may not bode this well."

"We are aware, High Executor.", Raseac answered. "Still, it does not change the fact this must be done. It is our duty."

"Your duty is with our people, Raseac.", Selendis replied, coldly.

"If this task serves our people, then our duty is clear, and our loyalty, thus, unquestioned.", Raseac said in defense.

"You serve our people by obeying the Hierarchy as a whole, not to one individual.", Selendis censored. "There is a thin line between duty and personal desire, between loyalty and madness."

"There is no madness in loyalty, High Executor.", said then the other Protoss. "It is only maintained with _passion_."

"And you are?", Selendis asked, looking at the unknown one.

"He is Centurion Ilmig, one of my most promising apprentices.", Raseac answered. "He is still to complete his training as a Templar, as tradition requires."

"I ask only that you forgive my impudence.", Ilmig said. "I ask only to serve, nothing more."

"Your enthusiasm is admirable, Centurion, but as I stated, nevertheless, there is a thin line between duty and madness.", Selendis said coldly. "One thing I will simply not bear is that a Protoss life is wastefully spent, especially one as young as yourself. Even if in service to our people. That is why I ask you reconsider this task."

"But if we do not step forward, Executor, as Urun said to me, then _who shall_?", Raseac asked. "I cannot deny this responsibility. And I am not sure I want to, given how much our Hierarch currently cowers."

This made Selendis livid.

"Executor Raseac, your such insolence in questioning the Hierarch's authority would be enough to imprison you and revoke your position as Executor!", Selendis said, threatning. "However, you are also one most held in high esteem amongst our people, so I will pretend I did not hear this. _But only once_!"

With this said, Raseac and Ilmig simply remained silent as Selendis looked angrily at both.

"I was with Artanis during the invasion of Aiur, as he fought alongside honored Tassadar and James Raynor in the final confrontation against the Overmind.", Selendis said, bitterly. "I saw him leading his warriors through fire and fury to assure the salvation of our people, even as we were forced to turn against the Conclave or evacuated shamefully to this world, a reminder of what our ignorance and said 'passion' had cost us. He restrains his hand of war not out of cowardice, but of _prudence_. A decision to simply mobilize and strike forward simply because the Queen of Blades fell can simply unite the broken Swarm and attract them all to our world. Everything we worked so hard to rebuild would then fall and our people would die to the point of near extinction! Would you even assume responsibility for this!?"

Raseac and Ilmig still remained silent.

"As I wondered.", Selendis said, disappointed.

"Responsibility is why we serve, Selendis.", Raseac said. "And it is why we stay the course."

Selendis simply looked at them.

"Very well, then.", Selendis said. "Simply do me a favor, then, and return quickly."

"We cannot.", Raseac said. "The Hierarchy would suspect. We can only return after forty days."

"_Forty days, then._", Selendis said. "But delay no longer. 'Tis not only your positions at risk, but mine as well, for I answer for the Golden Armada so much as Urun does. May the Gods guide you. En Taro Adun."

With this said, Selendis then turned around and started to leave the courtyard. Suddenly, Selendis eyes, as they ran across the courtyard, have caught a female figure she knew to well. This female figure wore a head wear and torso armor of her own. This torso armor bore two large shoulder pauldrons with separate armor that ran along her forearms. The lower waist had a separate armor piece of it's own, with a long dress-like tissue covering her legs and, seemingly, her feet. This Protoss woman seemed to be analyzing a stack of crates, as well as picking one on the ground and placing it on the stack as well. Selendis simply approached behind this woman with her angry expression softened, yet unchanged.

"I thought I told you to remain out of this.", Selendis said, as the listening Protoss female then turned around, staring at the speaker.

"Should you not be somewhere else, Selendis, overseeing trainees and taking the flak of the Hierarchy's lack of action?", the female said.

"_Mind your words, Lasarra_!", Selendis censored. "I do not have to take this, not now, not from you!"

"I do not say it, Selendis, 'tis the people on the streets.", Lasarra answered, ironically. "It is what they say when they look at me. It is not enough they call me the failed one, the bastard youngling, no. '_Behold her._', they say as they look. '_Look at her, she who is related to Her Whom Cowers Beneath the Assembly._'"

"I have told you to not pay attention to such claims, Lassara, you are above this.", Selendis said.

"Yet your actions, or, should I say, the lack of them, _reflect_ upon me!", Lasarra said, angrily. "Even when something graceful occurs, they reflect upon me. I will not stand idly as I take naught but harsh words and you naught but glory."

"There is no glory in war, Lasarra!", Selendis said. "As I said, you did not have to watch, as I did, the faces of those whom fell under my command, so much Khalai as Nerazim. You do not have to _dream_ with their faces every sleep, shouting at you to find a means for their return to life and to service!"

Lasarra simply said nothing as she then turned to leave.

"Lasarra, please, _I beg of you_!", Selendis said, as Lasarra stopped. "Do not throw your existence so rashly. You can still serve, but you do not have to serve amongst warrior and outside home."

"Serve as what?", Lasarra said, as she turned to face Selendis. "A Khaydarin jewel craftswoman? A weaver? And continue to be the fulcrum of disgrace?"

Selendis siimply remained quiet as Lasarra simply stared at her.

"Are you afraid, Selendis?", Lasarra said. "Afraid your light of glory will dim, as I simply get some for myself, because I deserve it more than others? Is that why you will not let me become a warrior? Is that why you effort to keep me on this place? _Here_, where I can no longer bear to be?"

"For Raszagal's sake, Lasarra-", Selendis said, frustrated.

"I've already made my decision!", Lassara interrupted, angry. "If you do not wish me to be aboard the Ark, then consult it with your precious Hierarch. That is, if you are willing to face the anger of the entire Golden Armada afterwards."

Selendis simply then remained silent. Lassara stared at her, with a bit of triumph.

"I should return within forty days.", Lassara said. "Do not worry, then, I will return soon... _sister_."

With this said, Lasarra simply turned around and left, leaving Selendis in the middle of the courtyard, all defeated by herself.

* * *

**BRIEFING ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, 'HARKONNEN'**

The doors opened on the spacious briefing room within the _Harkonnen_'s POC as Dominion soldiers in their CMC-300 armor stepped in to take positions on foot. There were, of course, sixty-four seats in the backwards space of the Briefing Room, but that was for personnel outside those suits. And, given the size of the Marines, it was a bit complicated to fit people tightly.

The briefing room was rectangular, with metallic walls like practically every corridor and quarter of the POC. Fluorescent lights boomed from the cylindric bulbs on the roof. The main podium bore a standing plate which the briefer would stand, along with a large screen used to depict information concerning the assignment. The screen could easily show the map of the region related to the mission to informations concerning a new threat. On that podium stood Warfield, waiting as the people on the main floor took their places. Amongst the crowd, he could see Richter amongst them.

"Gentlemen.", Warfield said. "I've been amongst you here, for more than a week, and all I can do is congratulate you so far for all you've done. Perhaps no feat was more impossible than the downfall of the most dangerous woman in the Sector. Yet we did it. Still, while we've won, we're not done with our job yet. I know you're tired, I know you deserve relief more than any other soldier I've met. Unfortunately, I fear I have news that will only make the situation troubling for us. The Emperor has warned us of the disappearance of Kerrigan since the confrontation in Phaeton."

With this, nervous murmuring erupted in the briefing room. Warfield knew this would come.

"It's still not known if Kerrigan has escaped with the Raiders or rejoined the Swarm, but the matter is that we will need to accelerate our assignment of cleansing this planet of Zerg presence.", Warfield said. "I personally wanted to start it tomorrow, but unfortunately the news of the Queen of Blades' escape only makes the situation worse. Now, if there aren't any questions, direct your view to the screen."

Then, the large screen came to life, showing a map of the surrounding region concerning the _Harkonnen_ fortress.

"Right now, due to the actions of the alien artifact, Zerg presence and aggression had been brought to a low thus far.", Warfield started. "The feral Zerg unleashed their power on themselves even more than us. Most of the Hive Clusters in the surface have either been rendered inactive or are growing feral Zerg of their own, which are unleashing on other Hives as well. However, the surface is not our concern, as we can deal with hive clusters through nuclear or orbital bombardment. Our real concern is their cave system. Even though we had managed to flood their Nydus network protecting Kerrigan's 'palace', there are still a big number of cave networks spread across the planet. These caves, if we allow, can be used by the Zerg to increase their numbers and even retake control of areas that may be vital to them, even making an advance on our new fortress a viable option. We can't let that happen. If we're showing the Zerg we're staying for a long, we'll have to make those caves our top priority."

"But, sir, with all due respect, fighting Zerg in caves is _pure suicide_. No air support, you can't bring in the big guns and the place is generally easy to fall in ambush.", one of the Dominion soldiers said. "Why not just demolish the whole damn caves and let the rubble squash the bugs to death?"

"As I said, we have neutralized their Nydus network, but more may erupt and easily dig new tunnels.", Warfield answered. "Besides, if we demolish the caves, they can still rebuild in the rubble and we'd not even be able to access them in time. Unfortunately, this will have to be done in the hard way. The good news is that it will be an opportunity to test our new equipment. I'm sure you're already familiarized with the new Hellbats and Widow Mines delivered by our allies in the Umojan Protectorate."

"And can you trust them to work?", Richter said.

"Umojans aren't like the Kel-Morians, Colonel.", Warfield said. "When they make something, _it works_. Now, in there aren't any questions, we'll start with the caves surrounding the Dauntless Plateau. We should perform a fifteen kilometer search radius for any cave openings we don't know. For those we already performed recon, we'll send in strike teams to scour and clean those of any Zerg activity. I've already set up the charter for team commanders. Lieutenant Dornan and Lieutenant Chapelle, you'll start with the cave networks to the North and Northwest, by the Bone Trench. We have already reports of Zerg attempting to break out the piles of Zerg bones we set to harass their path and funnel their advance. The nearby caves must lead access to some breeding chamber or Hive Cluster we're still to clean. Find the entrance and clear the path for additional troops to bust through and burn every last egg. Captain Renoir will take the western caves, by the Thorn Hills. The Zerg presence in those locations are mostly feral and unorganized, but it's better you establish a perimeter first, for emergency situations. Finally, Colonel Richter, you're getting the caverns in the southeast. Initial recon says it's mostly empty, but we'd like to check it out, ensure we don't have any surprises."

"And what if there are any?", Richter asked.

"Obviously contact HQ from the outside and request reinforcements. We'll send them.", Warfield answered. "The rest of you too, if you encounter superior or numerous enemy forces. As you're well aware, the Dominion fleet won't be coming anytime soon, so that means no reinforcements. Therefore, order of the day is no heroics, no foul-ups and no medal-winning actions, because you won't have them. Just do your job, get back and nothing more. Update on situation changes at all times. Well, this is it, assemble your crews and pick up your arsenals. Good luck and good hunting."

With this said, the doors opened and the screen went off, as the people in the briefing room began to leave. Warfield himself remained behind, as he felt the first shots would soon be fired once again on Char.

The only thing he didn't know was _at whom_ those shots would be fired at.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

The sight of the endless deep dark within made Kerrigan hesitate for a moment as she beheld the large cave she was about to step in. The arch shape of the entrance and innards, the colder temperature it should emanate from within, most of it reminded of the mouth of the giant Leviathan Kerrigan traveled with to this place. Except now the walls weren't flesh, but rock.

She couldn't fathom why Izsha wanted her there. There'd practically be nothing there concerning either the renegade Zerg or the Dominion. It should have been something else. Kerrigan would want anything else, even a small skirmish, as long as it'd help her hurt the enemy who's hurt her in the first place.

Either way, all Kerrigan did was look behind, particularly by the Terran fortress in the background, take a deep breath, load her rifle and walk inside the cave.

* * *

X

* * *

**FINAL COMMENTS:**

And I'm back, at last, back to this place where I truly belong! And **AGAIN** another long chapter. Although, I think this one was inevitable, as I finally felt it was about time I introduced the Protoss. But next chapter there'll be no excuses, this will concern the first battle, and, like I did with the Umojan arc, I want to cover every angle possible. So, this next chapter will be purely focused in Char. Practically, this should be the first TvZ ground battle although with only Tier 1 and 1.5 for Terrans.

Before I left for that infernal travel (Please, _don't ask me for details_.), I've read reviews and criticism, particularly concerning the amount of details I'm putting on the texts, describing characters and environments and stuff. Personally, I think I got a little bit too far just in detailing the differences between the Immortal and the Stalker. However, in other parts, it's kind of my moral obligation to _describe in details_ to the last bit, to the people reading it. I'm more concerned with the content and quality of these chapters than with the number and how quick I can make them. This, in my opinion, is what divides and makes my work stand out from the others. My chapters are long, true, but they have respect for those not familiarized with the StarCraft universe and do the hard work of updating people of what's going on with the characters and around them. So, sorry **GrimMoody**, but I'd lose my hope for shorter chapters if I were you. Sorry also for the StarCraft fans for the torture of having to explain stuff bit by bit, especially those Blizzard has ALREADY introduced.

But I've also been getting some extremely good suggestions for scenes and events concerning the other arcs (Special thanks, once again, to **Blackhole1** and **Ragnarok666**), like the future ones concerning Valerian, Nova and others. I plan to input some of them, but they can also wait, as there'll be plenty of chapters for all of them. There'll no doubt be people relating the meeting in the Hierarchy Assembly to that of the Alliance Council meeting in _Warcraft III: Reign of Chaos_ (The introduction to the Human Campaign, mind you.). Well, it's more of an _homage_ and I guess it was inevitable. At least there wasn't any Medivh around to spread words of doom, I like that the Protoss figure things out for themselves. Zeratul just going out there, telling the people of the Prophecy and they just accepting it is unrealistic and absurd even for me, especially the part of where they'd have to spare the murderess of their leaders and of hundreds of Protoss.

Also, taking a ride on the Protoss, a thing I'll definitely be talked bad about is the idea of making Lasarra Selendis' sister. Well, I was going to start alterations that would definitely separate this Fanfic from the official stuff with the end of the Char arc, but I guess this will be considered a first. Although of course, a minor one. Also, I wanted to add a bit more of an emotional touch I felt that lacked concerning the Protoss in both Wings of Liberty and Heart of the Swarm. Lasarra definitely lacked work and love from Blizzard. Plus, her original character was just too... _passive_, lacking an aggressive approach, hence the change of character in here. If any explanations are wanted, please feel free to put them in PM.

Well, can't say much more, not even on the introduction of the Warhound, Widow Mine and Hellbat. Hope you liked those.

This about summons it, ladies and gentleman. Comment, critic, kill me, rant me..

**AT LAST I'M BACK, 'TILL NEXT CHAPTER!**


	11. Chapter IX - In Deep

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER IX - IN DEEP**

* * *

**CAVE SYSTEMS, CRACKED PEAKS, CHAR**

Dim light could be seen in the orange emanations of the lava crags in the deep below inside the massive cave. Dark gray rock practically dominated the whole scenery, without any sun or sky. The only exception to the full darkness of this cavern seemed to be the gigantic crystals that imposed a strong live red color, almost volcanic. They emanated a light of their own, that would shed for those near it. Other than this, there was not much lightning to the cave.

Although, as Kerrigan predicted and wanted, there was the cold breeze. A small relief of the burden of having to walk over that boiling planet. Still, there seemed to be no sign of any water or any visible liquid, whatsoever. The ground remained warm, although it was also a bit more cold compared to the ground outside. As she could look through the air, the breeze seemed to be lifting small portions of ash afloat, letting fall a bit of dark dirt over the entire cave and anything or anyone in it. Including Kerrigan.

'_Beautiful._', she thought as she got a sight of some of those crystals, by one of the rocky walls. She then looked around, now paying attention to security issues when there didn't seem to be any. There didn't seem to have any debris falling or tremor of any intensity. That was good news, at best.

Her mood changed a bit, however, when her own feet stepped on something other than dirt. Something smoother. Something slimy. She looked below, to see she was stepping in a slimy liquid, a living carpet of a sort. A purple slime carpet that was now covering most of the supposedly rock and dirt covered floor, walls and roofs.

'_Creep._', Kerrigan thought, as she stepped further. '_Great..._'

Creep, as Kerrigan and practically most in the galaxy called it, was extremely common in Zerg occupied territory. It was a living, primitive organism by itself, utilized by the Zerg as basic sustenance. It sustained Zerg minions and constructs, as well as itself, by stripping the deep ground of minerals, with tendrils of it's own. Battlefield reports from previous combats always suggested that Zerg that fought on Creep fought more fiercely and moved more rapidly than outside it, making it a valuable supply asset of a sort. This alone explained why Creep always and relentlessly grew, being able to cover entire continents in less than a week, unless the growth loci, such as a Hatchery or a Creep Tumor, was destroyed, limiting it's growth. Only then, the creep could be effectively removed through high-temperature weaponry, like incendiary ordinance or high explosives.

Kerrigan, making a disgusted face, continued to proceed through the now Creep-occupied landscape, taking notice of the features it curiously created as it spread, such as glowing, living pods, pustules and even webbing thicker than those weaved by earthly spiders. But then, as she walked ahead, she caught the sight of the 'personal guard' that Izsha told her about. She caught sight of Drones wandering around the cave, performing their usual business, as well as a few Zerglings standing guard, but then noticing Kerrigan like if they were waiting for her, like stray dogs. Unlike those dogs, however, they didn't even approach her. One or two even backed away as she approached this group. Above those Zerg, a large balloon-like creature hovered on the seemingly tight space, but, according to the Puppet Queen's view, it did not even seem to bother.

But neither the Drones, or the Overlord, or the Zerglings were the sight standing out, but the huge, flesh-crafted structures before those minions. Three tentacles could be seen extended from some sort of horn-filled cylindric base, curving themselves so the spike-shaped tips could act like if they were under constant watch. The base also had a series of eight legs, distributed like an eight-pointed star, that it seemed to move. Firstly considered by Terrans and Protoss the reason of laughter, the Spine Crawler, however, came to prove it's worth for it's mobility. Before it's inception, the Swarm heavily depended on the mightiest and most dangerous of defenses that could be provided, like the large and heavily armored Sunken and Spore Colonies during the Brood War. Unfortunately, despite the extreme efficiency of such powerful defenses, they came be immobile, and frequently came to be devastated by the firepower of Siege Tanks and Reavers, Protoss slow and hulking slug-like machines that unleashed small homing drones that exploded violently upon contact. Plus, despite rumors of the fast efficiency and low cost of such defenses, the fact was that such structures required large amounts of resources that quickly depleted worlds, forcing the Swarm to look for alternatives to such disadvantages.

Near the Spine Crawlers stood a structure larger and taller than the others, and one Kerrigan could easily recognize. It was a structure of flesh and carapace, in a torus shape, like a curved cone. Horns, as well as rows of carapaces with the form of worm tunnels, were perfectly distributed in an uncommon symmetric harmony. The thick carapaces ran from the base to the tip of the structure, also filled with horns, but emanating, from time to time, some sort of gas or breath, like a fleshy industrial chimney. On it's very base, too close to the flesh, lied three worm-like Zerg, too small to pose any menace. Kerrigan remembered those as Larvae, the smallest of Zerg whom would breed and come out of that Hatchery, waiting their turn or command to form an egg, which would unfold into one of amongst the many dangerous Zerg, smaller or large.

"What is this, Izsha?", Kerrigan asked, looking at the scene before her.

'_As I answered, it's your personal guard._', Izsha said, her voice echoing in Kerrigan's head.

"And why my personal guard includes a Hatchery?", Kerrigan asked again.

'_I thought you'd have figured it out by now._', Izsha answered. '_We'll need to train you all over again._'

"Let me guess: In ordering Zerg?", Kerrigan asked, already knowing in what.

'_And why not?_', Izsha asked. '_Honestly, I don't think you'll be able to undermine the Dominion all by yourself._'

"And are you really going to entrust me with an army?", Kerrigan asked.

'_Don't you want your revenge?_', Izsha asked. '_I'm offering my help. It's your call if you want or not to learn in commanding the Swarm._'

Kerrigan simply stared at the scene ahead of her.

"Commanding...", Kerrigan said, pondering. "I find it difficult having to rule over a few pet monsters, Izsha."

'_Just don't expect me to pat you in the back if you foul up, Kerrigan._', Izsha said. '_I'm everything but a kind teacher._'

"Thanks for the warning.", Kerrigan answered. "I'm all years, then."

'_I'll start then._', Izsha said. '_That giant, cone-line structure ahead of you is called a Hatchery._'

"I already knew that.", Kerrigan said. "I came to know a bit about you before I was infested, remember?"

'_Will you really interrupt me every time!?_', Izsha asked, angry.

"Sorry.", Kerrigan said, letting out a small smirk. "Go on."

'_The Hatchery is the heart and belly of the Swarm, keeping the hive cluster in check and breeding Larva for you to mutate in either more Drones or fighting minions._', Izsha explained. '_You will not be able to hatch minions from anywhere else than the Hatchery, Lair and Hive, so guard them with your life, if you have to. Any questions?_'

"Interesting, I thought you wanted me alive...", Kerrigan said.

'_I do. It's just a manner of speaking._', Izsha said. '_Anything else?_'

"No, I'm getting it so far.", Kerrigan answered. "But there's more to it?"

'_Yes, you'll need to get your economy income moving._', Izsha said. '_The Drones you're seeing wandering around are actually mining a nearby mineral field. They're set this way until you order them something else. It's an automated process, of some sort, but I'll cover it later. For now, start spawning more Drones and have them start gathering more minerals._'

"Don't they spawn on their own?", Kerrigan asked.

'_No, I said the Drones do the usual harvesting on their own._', Izsha answered. _'Larvae are a very different issue. They'll stand wandering around and doing nothing until you start interacting with them._'

"_Interacting?_", Kerrigan asked.

'_Just talk with them with your powers. They understand English too._', Izsha said. '_And before you make that question, no, they don't bite._'

'_Okay, then._', thought Kerrigan, raising her left hand to touch her head temple. '_Here goes nothing._'

Her eyes simply looked then at the three Larvae before her, as her pupils glowed her fierce golden yellow.

'_Alright then._', Kerrigan psionically said to the Larvae. '_So, Izsha told me to start making Drones out of you. Who volunteers, then?_'

However, the larvae simply did nothing other than wandering around. It's been like this for some time.

"It's not working.", Kerrigan said.

'_Have you even tried asking nicely?_', Izsha asked.

"What, like a _dog puppy_?", Kerrigan asked, her eyes widening. "You're kidding me, aren't you?"

'_Does it look like I'm joking?_', Izsha asked back.

Kerrigan simply closed her eyes in frustration as she took a breath. It was unbelievable that the woman most feared and hated would have to go through that humiliation. She then looked at those larvae as she looked at a goofy, cutely expression, bending her head a bit.

'_Oooh, nicey little buggy buggy._', Kerrigan said, cutefully. '_Nicey buggy buggy, makey me a Droney Droney, please? Come on, please make me a Droney Droney, puh-lee-ze?_'

Kerrigan simply then looked at the larvae as they did nothing still. However, as she started losing hope, after a while, something started happening as the Larvae started unleashing very small tentacles around them, that started covering some parts of land around them, as well as the small larvae. However, more tentacles also started growing, as those new ones seemed to be coming out of the already enveloping tentacles, starting to embrace one another and... Strangely melt into one another, forming a singular, pupal flesh. This flesh quickly grew upwards, starting to form the egg shape Kerrigan was very well. The shape then completed itself, starting to form it's horns and scaled carapace. Everything at a speed uncommon for the standard earthly insect hatching procedure. Then, some of the flesh unglued itself from the egg and harmlessly fell into the ground, exposing the transparent thin layer with the green liquid she was familiarized with.

Kerrigan looked at the scene with a mixed look of curiosity, marvel and disgust. She'd seen larvae and eggs belonging to the Zerg before, but she'd never accompanied the egg formation process this close, not even when fighting the Swarm in her days in the Sons of Korhal. She remained in silence, accompanying the entire process.

"Damn...", she commented.

'_Beats every biology class you've been, doesn't it?_', Izsha asked.

"I don't know, I've never been to high school.", Kerrigan answered. "Still, I can't believe I've had to do that, how embarrassing..."

'_Well, you didn't._', Izsha said.

Kerrigan widened her eyes.

"_What!?_", she asked, surprised.

'_You silly little girl._', Izsha said. '_All you had to do was give them simple orders, they'd obey all the same._'

Then, Kerrigan heard a laughter in her head, doubtless belonging to her 'teacher'. She looked upwards, angry, not believing what she was hearing.

She just got fooled in a stupid play.

"What the f- _So why the hell you told me to ask them nicely, then?_", Kerrigan asked, angry.

'_C'mon, Kerrigan, you REALLY thought I'd pass up this opportunity!?_', Izsha asked, letting out another laughter then. '_Little buggy, buggy, make me a Droney Droney..._'

"Why, you- **GODDAMMIT, IZSHA!**", Kerrigan roared, frustrated, covering her face with her left hand. "For crying the hell out loud, I don't believe it!"

'_Hey, calm down, lady, I'm just messing with you._', Izsha said, recovering from her laughter. '_You seriously need to take jokes nicely, laugh up a bit, live a life._'

"You just mark my words, Izsha, you're gonna pay for that when I get back.", Kerrigan said, trying to control herself.

'_Noted._', Izsha said, chuckling. '_Well, then, shall we continue?_'

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

It was already being a long march to their target. Over eighty-six troops of most types marched in an almost line formation, carrying their weapons and what not as they continued to walk. The ground was rough and hot, and rock spikes and horns could be seen almost everywhere. The orange red gloom was already hurting the vision of some that marched. The group was comprised of some Medics, some Marines and their trusted C-14 rifles, Firebats and Marauders, and a Ghost. But there was another type walking amongst them. This new type was a muscular one inside a jump combat suit, with thick combat boots, vest, gauntlets and a belt. On their back, stood two abnormally large rocket engines connected to a very small fuel supply tank. The boots also had a rocket engine each of their own, although those were small. They carried a pair of pistols each on their hands, that was almost as thick as a C-14 Rifle, but not as long. Their heads were covered by pilot masks with glowing visors and a respirator on their mouths and noses.

Richter had been walking alongside the people on the mountain, seeing most of their faces, although all of them were hidden by the visors and helmets and masks. They looked wearied by the long walk. At least they were now coming close to the mountain, and did not encounter any hostile activity along the path behind the group, much behind, stood some civilian personnel wearing light personal armor.

"We're almost there, gentlemen.", Richter said. "Hold tight."

"So, what's the game plan when we get there, boss?", one of the Firebats said. "Simple 'churn and burn' anything on the path?"

"Something like that.", Richter said. "But I'm also setting up a base camp in the entrance. I'm not getting caught with my pants down on the first day."

"Still, doesn't change the fact fighting in caves is suicide!", one of the Marines exclaimed. "No artillery support, no air, radios don't work for crap..."

"Oh, what's so wrong, missy?", mocked another voice, a male, gruff, insolent one. "_Growin' scared of the dark?_"

Richter simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath at the mockery he'd just heard. It was typical of that guy to spew rubbish one time after another. He looked behind to see one such man in jet packs, a Reaper, laying over one of the rocks that gave him a vantage point above most people. This Reaper looked tall and proud, his manly front figure all displayed like a phony hero or an exhibitionist.

"Since when you got back to being a small little girl?", the Reaper teased.

"He's got a point, Penny.", a Marauder said. "Might have an Ultralisk for what we know..."

"You ladies are overreacting, will be just a couple of stray dogs.", the Reaper, 'Penny', answered. "Still not enough for my payday, though..."

"That's enough, Penny!", Richter censored. "I can't believe you've been running off your mouth since we left HQ! I don't know why I even bothered bringing you along!"

"Besides the fact that my jets can take me to infinity and beyond, I can shoot and even make an explosive number on any Zerg mothers?", asked Penny. "Much simple, Colonel. _I'm sexy._"

"You're just funny, chief.", another Reaper commented nearby.

"You wanna get yourself a frakking beating, Frankie!?", Penny asked, suddenly angry, but then bizarrely poetic. "Does you dareth to challenge the king of the rock!?"

"Whatever, your majesty, get your ass down there or fly back to base.", ordered Richter. "Warfield will want you cleaning the mess hall, though..."

"What!? You crazy, Colonel!?", Penny said. "I ain't no one's bitch!"

"THEN GET YOUR ASS MOVING!", roared Richter, furious.

"Alright, alright, lighten up, Colonel, I'm coming.", Penny said, coming off the rock. "Geez, even seems like you didn't sleep well, no."

"Never mind him, boss.", said the other Reaper. "Old Rick-o's been having some marriage issues, it seems..."

"And tell me, Frankie, what woman can bear him, even more with the _peanut_ he's got?", Penny said.

"**ENOUGH!**", Richter roared. "Lieutenant Penny, from this time onward, you'll keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the travel! You understand me!?"

However, Richter got no answer from the funny man.

"Dammit, Penny, ARE YOU DEAF!?", Richter roared.

"What, I thought you told me to shut up!", Penny answered back.

Richter simply took a deep breath and looked at him.

"Whatever.", Richter said. "_Keep moving._"

With this finished, the troop continued moving forward across the quasi-chasm. Richter took a deep breath, trying to contain himself. It was the second time that week that he did it. He liked getting up on people while showing himself off. Unfortunately, his maniacal tendencies in battle were what made him an asset, especially in fighting the Zerg like he did.

Nell Penny, like most of those Reapers walking beside him, had come from the Icehouse in the Torus System. Like most too, he was one of those persons whom could not be successfully resocialized to serve as another Marine in the Dominion. He'd been amongst the most brutal recruits to ever come along the Icehouse, successfully graduating with honors in close-quarters combat. Somehow, his preparation process, performed through the use of chemicals like any other Reaper, had seen to such excellence in combat, although not in a positive way. For, while physically well built and prepared for a brawl, he was psychologically unstable. It was no wonder that even the other Reapers, then, had nicknamed him 'Monster Maniac'. At a first glance, many would confuse him as a she, but that came to be even forbidden after what happened to the first and last one whom had such an audacity to do it on his face. A deuterium-eight explosive charge had seen to it. For two weeks, the Dominion commander in charge of the installation had been working hard to pick up whatever that remained of the funny person whom dared compare Penny to a woman.

However, contrary to what people rumored about his past, he hadn't come from any slum or any other place with a high statistics of poverty or criminal activity. Penny was actually from a suburban middle-class family on Nephor II, one of those people that could very well pass through college and assure himself a job in civilian circles. But, behind such a vision of a family person, whom even worked out and kept himself in shape, there was a secret just too dark and one people would not expect: One of clandestine pit fights in an illegal arena downtown, where bets occurred between people of most classes as those middle aged persons of several neighborhoods fought one another. Nell Penny was one such fighter. Even more, he was the unofficial champion of those pit fights, perhaps the most violent of them, beating those persons down into full, complete submission. But even in a tightly controlled pit fighting like that one, sometimes even the most controlled goes too far. That was the fight that cost the life or a person a bit shorter and thinner than Penny. The people from the pit fight had tried to cover it up, but police forensics went ahead and found out about it. The fighting ring was dissolved and it's members arrested, including Penny. At court, he was then sentenced to death row, unless he cooperated and denounced those responsible for upkeeping the fights. He'd done so, and was then transferred to military service. The rest then, as people would tell, was history running along.

By then, the troop had already managed to reach a cave entrance, one that most of the troops seemed to stop before it. Richter saw the entrance as well and stopped. That was it. They were at the mouth of their goal.

"Well, gentlemen...", Richter started, hesitating a bit. "Here goes nothing. Jefferson, contact HQ, tell them we reached objective Alpha, commencing objective Beta soon. Stay here and sit-rep on outside here."

"Yes sir.", one of the Marines said.

"Crooper, you'll be making company with Jefferson.", Richter said. "The remainder, with me. We're going in."

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, '_HARKONNEN'_**

The doors to the dark, almost pitch black Command Room opened as General Horace Warfield stepped in, having finished his session of sonic cleansing. He left strict instructions that anything urgent or of absolute importance was to be immediately relayed to him, even during his 'shower' time. He now was off his CMC-300 suit, now wearing a formal, black officer uniform, although a basic one, without any shoulder pauldrons like ship captains. The suit also lacked any medals, stars or any details worthy of his position as Field General of the Dominion. He simply weared a shut tight black jacket, with pants tied to a simple belt and black shoes. His lost right arm, that once held that massive cannon on his suit, had been replaced with a cybernetic prostethic, an utilitarian one for non-combat situations.

Warfield was greeted by one of the officers awaiting for him, whom saluted as the General saluted back. This officer was a Caucasian male, practically bald, wearing a seemingly black uniform, if not blue, due to the ambiance of the room.

"Report?", Warfield asked to the officer.

"Nothing new, sir. Negative on contacts.", answered Duncan McGrudd, the acting officer in command when Warfield was not available or in the field. "But we already have reports from our cave teams. Richter has just arrived, will start the work soon. Dornan and Chapelle are beginning the search now and Renoir is almost arriving to target."

"Have them update situation every ten minutes.", Warfield said. "What of our sensor net?"

"They're finishing final set-ups, General, but the network itself is on operational status.", McGrudd answered. "It should be finished by the next thirty minutes."

"Make it fifteen.", Warfield ordered. "I need to secure _Harkonnen_, and I can't do it if I can't see where the nearby Zerg are."

"Will do, sir.", McGrudd answered, leaving Warfield to his business as he approached the tactical map table. As he leaned on the table showing the Dauntless Plateau and the terrain surrounding it, he was then approached by another officer, this time a Caucasian male with hair and blue eyes.

"General.", the new officer said, getting Warfield's attention. "We have a problem."

"What is it, Finn?", Warfield asked.

"If you'll please accompany me on the monitor, sir, I can show you.", Finn said, as he left and Warfield followed to a nearby terminal. This terminal was already being occupied by another person, a Caucasian female one with a brown hair and a ponytail, wearing a blue uniform. "We were starting to run tests on the thermal scans of our monitoring station when our first run had got something too unusual. Beth, if you'll please show the General..."

The female operator had then started typing on her keyboard, as the monitor screen had shown a map of the Dauntless Plateau, but entirely colored in psychedelic coloring, denoting it was a thermal mapping of the region, which monitored activity by temperature.

"Filter the monitoring, set maximum heat calculation to 40.", Finn said. The operator then typed further on the keyboard, configuring the settings of the thermal scanning monitor. The psychedelic coloring then diminished or vanished considerably, all except for some small signals spread across the map. And a large one, almost gigantic.

"This, sir, is what we first picked.", Finn said, pointing to the large signal on the monitor.

"It's not surprising.", Warfield answered, after looking at the signal for a while. "With the current state of our equipment, it could be easily attributed to a fault in our hardware."

"True, sir, it indeed could look like that in the first thermal run, but what would you say of the fifth to onwards?", the female operator, Beth, then asked.

"_Fifth to onwards?_", Warfield asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"We have been making turns with each repair and patch on the hopes this image would disappear, but it still didn't, General.", Finn explained.

"Don't you think it's a possible geothermal fault?", Warfield asked.

"That's the problem, General.", Beth said. "Geothermal temperatures are generally one hundred and twenty Celsius with floating variations, depending on the intensity of the gas let-out. This signal has over sixty-one and a half Celsius, constant."

"The temperature of a large Zerg breed!?", Warfield asked, angry. "But- That's impossible, we made a thirty kilometer check for possible larger breeds or Hive Clusters, we even did it _twice_! How the hell this ended up in here?"

"We honestly don't know, General.", Finn said. "Either this was too deep in the underground for our initial scouts to uncover or it came recently."

"If anything came up in here recently, Finn, we'd have noticed in a fifty meter radius!", Warfield exclaimed. "Especially with the Dominion Fleet orbiting the planet the last few days."

"I don't know how this came up, General!", exclaimed Finn. "If I had an answer, I'd have told you right away."

Warfield closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.

"Which direction it is, from where we're standing?", asked Warfield.

"West-Southwest of the POC, about twenty kilometers or less.", Beth answered.

"Good.", Warfield said. "I want to take a closer look."

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

The lesson had been going steady, after that unnecessary scene with the Larvae. Kerrigan had calmed down, but she wouldn't forgive Izsha that soon for that play. Still, Kerrigan had effectively began how to properly command Zerg, with authority and without need for a ridiculous display, after a few tries. She curiously compared the Zerg to trained dogs, in which she needed a firm tone and a direct command, but, unlike those, she did not have to shout. Despite the fact she could command the Drones she spawned too, she left them extracting the nearby mineral field, for the lack of something to do with them. She also noted that, unlike the eggs in the Leviathan or in a usual breeding chamber, those eggs directly from the hatchery worked faster to release their 'product'. Izsha's explanation was that those Larva, and therefore the eggs, were instilled with a sense of urgency akin to what military leaders ask of reinforcements or fire support, thus explaining the quick hatching process. The only thing that took sometime to appear though was the Larvae from the Hatchery itself, but, given there was almost nothing to worry about, especially a possible enemy advance, she didn't mind.

Kerrigan saw then another egg crack and unfold, as the new Drone inside unleashed it's birth cry and started crawling it's way out. Well, not exactly crawling, it was more for floating, as no legs of any sort were found in the creature. Having left it's former berth behind, the new Drone then already started traveling to the mineral fields, joining the worker line that walked forward, returned a bit back later with a mineral chunk, crawled to the Hatchery top to dump the chunk, and then started crawling back to the field. Unlike Terran workers from a mine, however, there was the difference that they never complained concerning work conditions or extra pay for overtime work. As for the egg husk, the Creep below started to then envelop it and begin consuming the remainder, somehow feeding from it as the husk desintegated, opening space for another eggs to be made.

Then, a small, painful growl was heard above the cave. Kerrigan then looked upwards to see the Overlord was straining itself. Another sign of pain, this time a roar, was heard.

"Uhh, Izsha, is this something normal?", Kerrigan asked.

'_Yeah, well, ever heard of the 'putting more than you can chew on your mouth' expression?_', Izsha asked. '_You're breeding much more minions than what this Overlord can control. Poor thing will break down if you don't do something about it soon._'

"How do I do that?", Kerrigan asked.

'_There's no easy way about it._', Izsha answered. '_You'll have to hatch another Overlord._'

"You think it'll fit in this cave?", Kerrigan asked.

'_Don't know, don't care, and you shouldn't._', Izsha answered. '_What you should care is, if that Overlord falls, it can't control minions, and you definitely won't want that. The things will go feral and will start killing everything and everyone on their path, even one another._'

"Okay, okay.", Kerrigan said. "Pretty much got the idea now."

Kerrigan then touched her temple once again, as her eye pupils glowed the golden orange trademark glow. She focused on one of the Larvae.

'_Mutate and hatch into an Overlord._', she psionically said. With this done, the Larva started doing it's pupal stage procedure, beginning to form into an egg that, hopefully, would hatch into a new Overlord. A new roar was then heard, from the Overlord above.

'_Hope I make it in time..._', Kerrigan thought, but she did not have to wait for long. Three minutes after, the egg, whom quickly reached it's advanced stage, cracked and unfolded to unveil the new Overlord. The newborn creature then started levitating itself to reach the roof of the cavern, a work of it's gas-filled orbs that helped the creature maintain itself aloft. Then the roar had effectively ceased the moment the Overlord was hatched.

"That was close.", Kerrigan said.

'_I'd say that was easy._', Izsha answered. '_But a bit complicated now, isn't it?_'

"Yeah, I'll just need some time to get used to the painful roar of those poor things.", Kerrigan answered.

'_Well, there's this trick to avoid it from happening every time._', Izsha said. '_It's like bartending, where the boys and girls count to three before stop putting the liquor in the drink. Here, you can count by minions. Every eight or nine minions, then you make an Overlord._'

"Don't you think it's a little complicated, especially in a _combat situation_?", Kerrigan asked, aware of the stress tests that event and involuntarily occur.

'_It is. It's a matter of timing and skill, but you'll get the hang._', Izsha said. '_Don't worry, I'll be light with you, for this first time. Now, how about we step up the lesson? Ready to make your first soldiers?_'

"Yeah, I was wondering when we'd get to that, now that I'm here.", Kerrigan commented. "Too many gaps in our ranks as of late..."

'_Well, I could give you the entire template of our strains, all we currently have, but unfortunately we lost a few here and there after the artifact battle._', Izsha said. '_For now, however, we'll stay with the basics. The only structure that'll allow production of a fighting strain, for a start, is a Spawning Pool._'

"And... How do I _spawn_ that?", Kerrigan asked.

'_You'll need to sacrifice a Drone for that._', Izsha answered.

"_Sacrifice!?_", Kerrigan asked, surprised. "What, like in an _altar_ or something?"

The question made Izsha giggle in the Ghost's mind.

'_No, no, not that type, Kerrigan._', Izsha said. '_Although, I confess, that was a good one. No, what I mean is that a Drone must practically enter a pupal stage of it's own when making a building. It breaks it's code to make that. Plus, each and every Zerg structure needs a Drone's symbiont to properly operate._'

"So, once a Drone starts making the building, it's gone for good?", Kerrigan asked.

'_Now you're learning._', Izsha said. '_Well, then, just order one of the Drones to make it and we can give it a go._'

"Like I did with the Larvae?", Kerrigan asked.

'_Of course you don't have to go Droney Droney this time._', Izsha answered, chuckling a bit. Kerrigan simply took a deep breath.

"_I hate you so much..._", Kerrigan said.

'_The feeling is mutual._', Izsha replied.

* * *

_On another part of the caves..._

Metal clank sounds could be heard and even echoed in a considerable range as the armored Marines, Marauders and Firebats started to enter the massive cave hub through the large, mouth-shaped tunnel opening. The temperature on those Marines began to cool off for a moment, given the heat outside. The lights on the Marines' suit torso pieces could virtually make light cones that illuminated the place, given how dark it currently was. Well, not exactly dark, there was still some light on the cave, courtesy of the large crimson red crystals hanging by some walls and roofs of the giant cave, as well as dim orange light, from some lava current deep below.

The Marines, Marauders and Firebats walked in slowly, weapons and arms at the ready for the slightest sign of early trouble. The C-14 Rifles of those Marines displayed targeting lasers everywhere, as their fingers held a tight control over the triggers, although they were itching to fire at something. From behind, came in the Medics, Reapers and the unarmed Dominion Personnel, carrying sets of crates, no doubt of supplies and ammunition.

Richter, whom was amongst those Marines, stood still as he gazed the scenery before him. Behind him, a loud whistle was head.

"One big-ass cave, I might add...", Penny commented behind. "Plenty of room for my stunts."

"Be quiet, everyone!", Richter ordered, as he apparently heard something.

"Oh, come on, whiny, even here you're-", Penny started to talk when he was interrupted.

"SHUT IT, PENNY!", censored Richter furious, trying to see if he could hear that noise again. And again he did.

The noise was a dim one, no doubt afar enough to echo. It was a beastily roar of a sort. An alien roar.

"Gentlemen...", Richter said. "I'd call it a jackpot."

Behind the visors and helmets and masks, the people inside smiled. Like a person that cheered when he or she won a prize at a casino, those men and women would have a chance to earn their pay.

"Seems like Warfield made a right shot in bringing us here, sir.", one of the Marines commented.

"He sure did.", Richter replied. "Still, we follow up the plan. Kovack, Ross, Sartine, you're volunteered for scouting duty. Five kilometer radius. Go."

"What if we get lost, sir?", asked one of the selected Marines, Kovack.

"Put up light beacons on the tunnels and cave areas you explored.", Richter said. "This should give some help in keeping track."

"Contact in case of finding?", asked the second Marine, Sartine.

"Contact me through short range radio.", Richter said. "But keep a distance. Don't draw up trouble unless you're forced to. Now, move out."

With this said, the three Marines started to walk forward into one of the caves, rifles in hand.

"Alright, gentlemen, let's settle up.", Richter said. "And that means you too, Penny!"

"What?", Penny asked, pretending innocence. "Why don't you send me forwards!? I thought this was gonna be fun-"

"Penny, if I have to discuss with you one more time, I'm including a bullet on your privates, you hear!?", Richter threatened, turning to face the Reaper. "Now, either walk your ass back to base, or get your ass moving AND HELP OUT THE OTHER PEOPLE, LIEUTENANT!"

Richter then turned around to look at the cave as the people nearby, including some Marines and Medics, began to help out. Penny simply stood there, not doing anything at all.

"_Can't I get my money back for this ride?_", asked Penny, angry.

* * *

**PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, '_HARKONNEN_**'

For the last couple of minutes, Warfield had simply been standing there, on the heat and oppressing ever dusk light, as the maintained a tight grip on the binoculars he was currently using. There wasn't anything new yet on the still to be completed _Harkonnen_ fortress. This was not his concern, still, but what he was seeing on the binoculars, facing West to Southwest of the Primary Operations Center, by a set of horn-like mountains. The binoculars he used were of a futuristic design, with two standard lenses, allowing normal view, as well as a third that permitted to change between normal and infra-red viewing.

The sight that currently caught his attention wasn't the mountains themselves, but what was between them. Between them lied pockets of flesh, that did not fit, but still they did. Brown flesh combined with some orbs emanating some eerie purple glow had delivered him the worst news he could think of. The Zerg were close by, and with something big. But how, he couldn't tell. Recon images from days ago have denoted the region around the Dauntless Plateau was virtually clean. Apart from a few pockets of feral Zerg and some nest on those caves by the Bone Trench, there was no actual threat to the fortress or it's development. But now, something this large had come right at his lawn, _neighboring_ him. Maybe Finn and Beth, the operator, were right. It was deep underground, too deep to pick up with the sensor scans they had earlier, or it recently came. But, if it did, how the hell did no one notice something this large come up?

"You have called for me, General?", Warfield heard a male voice, one with a British accent, behind him.

"I have, McGrudd.", Warfield answered, still using the binoculars. "Tell me, did you have a childhood? Ever read comics?"

McGrudd simply frowned his forehead, thinking the question was a bit... _Strange._

"Well, that depends, sir.", McGrudd answered. "Why the question?"

"Riddle me this, McGrudd: _How the hell am I seeing a Leviathan right beside my new house and no one ever seen it coming_?", Warfield asked, letting down the binoculars and handing them to McGrudd, to pick them. "Over there, between the mountain gaps.", he added, pointing the direction to McGrudd. The British officer then put on the binoculars, looking at that direction, thus seeing the monster between the gaps.

"Bloody hell...", McGrudd mumbled, admiring the partial, if not full, gaze of the monster that came to be the reason of fear for the Dominion Fleet's half that fought days ago in mid-orbit.

"Exactly.", Warfield said. "So, why it didn't attack us yet?"

"I don't know, General.", McGrudd answered. "Maybe, because it's feral and everything, it's behaving differently than what if it was under control. Maybe it's docile."

"_Don't be stupid_, the last thing you ever hear of the Zerg is either docile or harmless.", Warfield said, bitterly.

"I beg to disagree, sir.", McGrudd replied. "Recent studies have been revealing that, despite most strains, the Overlord itself is quite docile."

"Well, this still doesn't change the fact I won't adopt a Zergling, feed it and walk it twice a week anytime soon.", Warfield replied back. "Do you think it's a threat to us here?"

"Well, it hasn't attacked yet, as you said, sir.", McGrudd answered, letting down the binoculars. "And, judging by the sight of it, it doesn't seem like it will anytime soon."

"You're judging too soon, McGrudd.", Warfield said. "Even when they ain't on a leash, Zerg never do what you expect. Now, how much firepower you reckon we can use to deal with this thing? A nuke or two, maybe?"

"Well, sir, I wouldn't advise it.", McGrudd said. "You know what they say how animals get angry when they provoke them. Besides, we don't have much nukes. We may need one or two we won't have, when the time comes."

"Good point.", Warfield said. "Still, this thing unnerves me. We better keep an eye on it."

He then started backtracking to inside the POC.

"Have a spotter or two get a closer look."

* * *

A large, hulking blob of mass had caught Kerrigan's curious eye as she watched the formation of the Spawning Pool in an open area, close by the Hatchery. She became surprised when the pupal formation of this structure was somehow akin to that of the Larvae, yet so different. The blog mass had a dark red flesh, almost black, with protruding purple blobs with a similar liquid to that on the eggs. Like the Larva, the Drone started letting out tentacles of it's own, that started enveloping around the creature and develop pupal flesh of it's own. Inside the liquid, the Drone, or at least what was remaining of it, swimmed inside it.

"So, Izsha, what kind of a fighting strain this Spawning Pool that I'm building allows?", Kerrigan asked.

'_The answer is beside you._', Izsha said.

Kerrigan then looked to the sides and noticed one of the Zerglings lying besides her, staring at her.

"_Zerglings?_", Kerrigan asked. "Never thought they'd need that. I just thought they could be hatched directly from an egg, like Drones and Overlords."

'_Well, the ooze within the Pool is what contains the genetic material for the Zerglings._', Izsha explained. '_It also contains most genetic information concerning further Zerg strains, hence the need to build it. This and other structures that allow access to other strains. Bigger, stronger strains._'

"Pretty much like what we Terrans need.", Kerrigan said. "For weapons and vehicles and other things..."

'_Something like that._', Izsha said.

Then, the blob, that began to grow even larger across the creep, was now at a breaking point. The moment Kerrigan looked, she walked back a bit, awed at how large the previously small blob suddenly became.

'_Uhh, I'd want to step a bit back, if I were you._', Izsha said. Kerrigan then widened her eyes.

"Shit.", Kerrigan said, as she started to fall back a bit. The blob, then, exploded and unfolded in massive flaps. Massive liquids flew everywhere from inside the blob. A bit of this liquid landed on Kerrigan, whom shielded her face with her right arm. The liquid was of a purple darker than what was everywhere, covered on Creep. She looked at this liquid, with a nauseous face.

"_Gross._", Kerrigan said, wiping the liquid from her arm.

'_You know what they say, Kerrigan, commanding the Swarm is a dirty business, but someone's gotta do it._', Izsha said.

"Yeah, but at least it didn't have to be _literal!_", Kerrigan complained angry.

Kerrigan then looked at the former site of the blob, seeing the remainder of the exploded blob was now being consumed by the Creep, just like the remainder of the eggs she was previously hatching. Above it lied the newly formed 'structure'. From Kerrigan's sight, it was simply a medium base forming some sort of a crude plastic pool shape for children, although this one was fleshy and even had a separate tentacle hose of it's own, no doubt to circle the liquid within around. The borders of where the water should be were riddled with spikes and thorns. Kerrigan then approached the pool itself, climbing over it to see it's contents, that clearly were not water. The liquid was living lemon green, it emanated smoke and it did not smell well.

"I know it's a stupid question, Izsha, but, if I drink any of that, will something happen to me?", Kerrigan asked, climbing down of the Pool and stepping away from it.

'_Want to find out?_', Izsha asked back, ironically.

"Nevermind.", Kerrigan said. "Now what, I can hatch Zerglings?"

'_Give yourself a try._', Izsha said.

Kerrigan then pressed her temple again as she looked at one of the Larvae.

'_Mutate to a Zergling._', she psionically said to the Larva, whom started forming the egg.

"Alright, doing it.", Kerrigan said. "Is there something else or that's all?"

'_Only one last thing._', Izsha said. '_There is a nearby Vespene Geyser, and I'd like it's contents. Have a Drone make up an Extractor and then start gathering it._'

"How much?", Kerrigan asked. "Some Gas or all of it?"

'_Yes, well, the latter is more preferable._', Izsha said. '_We can't afford to let resources like those on the loose around, can we? Especially for the Dominion, if they ever found this place..._'

"Figures.", Kerrigan replied. Then the egg nearby started to crack, and Kerrigan turned it's attention to it. As it cracked, it began to unfold and let out it's contents. In plural. Her eyes widened as she saw the Zerglings of the same stature, although in a couple, come out of the egg and approach her.

"_Two Zerglings?_", Kerrigan asked, surprised.

'_For the price of one._', Izsha said, chuckling. '_And there is no expensive cost, either in resources or psionic control, for the second._'

"So that's why there's more of them than anything else?", Kerrigan asked.

'_A decent pay-off, compared to it's weaknesses._', Izsha said. '_It's fragility, especially to flame-based weaponry, it's initial throwbacks in speed and agility, most of it would make a Zergling too pathetic fighting on it's own. They were meant to be used in masses, and it's much preferable that way._'

"Explains much.", Kerrigan said.

* * *

Virtual and practically, every cave tunnel that that the three Marines, Kovack, Ross and Sartine, have searched, was dark and empty. Only dark rock and dirt were ahead, where the lights could make them visible, as both Kovack and Sartine walked slowly forward. Ross was a bit behind, stopping at times to install a light beacon, a small lamp of a sort that provided no light but to itself, but the strength of the lamp's lightning could be seen by friendly forces for some meters. It served as a waypoint marker for explored pathways, especially on cave explorations. While there was indeed the risk that the beacons could be traced back to the primary staging area, there was little option too. The Marines could not remember where they came from and could get lost, prompting Colonel Richter to send another trio. And then another. This could be a strategy to pick off enemy forces, bit by bit, and Richter wouldn't have that. If he was going to fight the Zerg, he would fight them with all the firepower he could get.

"Not a sign around, despite that roar.", Kovack said. "Must be far ahead, ten kilos or more."

"I don't know, that was pretty loud for that to be afar.", Sartine replied, looking around at an intersection as he stopped. "Hey! There's something here..."

Kovack stopped to then return to Sartine, the lights on his torso illuminating at a entrance at the intersection. An entrance that seemed to be covered in dark purple liquid.

"_Creep_.", Sartine said. "Think there's a nest up close?"

"Could be.", Kovack answered, as Ross caught up to both. "Digger Actual, this is Forerunner 1-1. Confirming Zerg Creep presence, four kilometers and a half, facing South, Southwest. Follow light beacons for reference. Possible breeding site."

"Affirmative.", Kovack heard Richter say, on the radio. "Hostile contact?"

"Negative yet.", Kovack answered. "Orders?"

"Approach and investigate, try to determine enemy strength.", Richter answered. "Keep your distance, avoid engaging unless necessary. Will send a team for backup."

"Copy.", Kovack said, then turning around. "Many thanks. Okay, we're going in, step slow, guns tight."

The Marines then proceeded onwards, through the creep filled tunnel, that still contained no activity whatsoever. They noticed the creep webbing and pods as well, as the living organism was covering the ground around it like an contagious infection. As they stepped forward, reaching the end of that tunnel, they came into a clearing, in high ground, allowing them vision of the scenery ahead. They have seen Zerg constructs familiar to those in briefings, as well as Zerg minions themselves. Three tentacles extruded and kept watch over the clearing, protecting this place, doubtless, of any unwanted guests.

"_Shit!_", whispered Kovack, in an almost quiet voice. "Digger Actual, Forerunner, confirm breeding site, repeat, confirm breeding site. Identifying multiple structures, multiple hostiles! Confirm, over?"

"Confirmed.", Richter said. "Strength level?"

"Counting three Spine Crawlers, counting ten plus contacts, Zergling strains.", Kovacks said, looking around the scenery ahead of him. "Counting one structure, Hatchery, counting one structure, Spawning Pool, counting three aerials, Overlord strain. Identifying multiples, Drone strain, unknown number. Seems this breeding site is still on it's initial stages."

"Roger, keep an eye for situation updates.", Richter answered on the radio. "Have you been seen?"

"Not yet, sir, but I can't guarantee-", Kovack said, but stopped and backed off a bit when he saw something else coming inside the Zerg emplacement. A human sight. "_Holy-_ Get back, **GET BACK!**"

"Forerunner, what happened?", Richter asked. "What is it?"

"Digger Actual, confirm human sighting, repeat _confirm human sighting_! Target is _Nightingale_, repeat, _Nightingale_ sighted!", Kovack whispered, alarmed. "Warn Command now, get the alert-"

Suddenly, a sudden noise was caught from behind, one of the ground exploding. Kovack turned around and saw something that was not supposed to occur: A Zergling unburrowed and jumped over Sartine before he could even react, putting the Marine down on the ground.

"SHIT!", screamed Sartine, in panic, as the beast started striking it's claws against his armor, starting to make holes in it. "GET IT OFF ME!** GET IF OFF ME!**"

* * *

_Far behind..._

"Forerunner, are you there?", Richter asked, alarm increasing in him. "Forerunner, come back, COME BACK!"

The Colonel's eyes widened as he now figured out the worse. They found the Zerg, but the Zerg also found them.

The game was on.

"**ARM UP!**", Richter roared. "Contact incoming, ready for assault!"

* * *

_Far ahead, seconds ago..._

Kerrigan had just been going back from the new, final work that Izsha had put up for her. She was only a bit nauseous from approaching the Vespene Geyser and it's emanations, although the Drone that she took with her did not seem to feel anything one bit. Vespene, no matter how much of a one-fourth Zerg and three-fourths Terran was, was never a good thing to breathe.

"Alright, Izsha, your Extractor is growing up.", Kerrigan said. "Is that-"

Suddenly, screams were heard far ahead, by the second Spine Crawler. Sounds Kerrigan could recognize.

"GET IT OFF ME! **GET IF OFF ME!**", the voice screamed, in full abject panic.

"What the-", Kerrigan started, when gunfire was heard. C-14 Rifle rounds. "_Shit!_"

Kerrigan then got herself in an alert stance, triggering her rifle and aiming at the scream's direction.

"**RUN!**", screamed another voice far ahead.

"Izsha, tell me you heard that!", Kerrigan said, alarmed.

'_I heard it._', Izsha said. '_I'm still trying to accept we've been spotted, though._'

"I thought you said it was empty!", Kerrigan protested.

'_It WAS empty!_', Izsha said. '_At least, it was in my last check. Warfield must be started his cave purging plans more early._'

"Cave purging!?", Kerrigan asked, angry. "And what do you mean more early!?"

'_From what I've been spying on him, he was supposed to start it tomorrow._', Izsha explained. '_So either he decided to rush his plans or something made him do it._'

"You think we've been found?", Kerrigan asked, her eyes widening. "When we landed?"

'_I don't know, but it doesn't matter._', Izsha answered. '_We'll have to secure this cave from them._'

"Why not just leave it to them and run off?", Kerrigan asked.

'_This cave's more important than you think._', Izsha said. '_Now, get to work, make more Hatcheries and start making something to deal with our new guests. Keep them from leaving the cave until I can get backup._'

"They might have flame weapons with them.", Kerrigan said. "Zerglings in mass numbers won't budge much with that."

'_But we can always make more, and quick._', Izsha reassured. '_They have to bring in reinforcements the old-fashioned way, we can replace what we lost right here. Besides, maybe you can lend one hand or two against that._'

"How long until you arrive, then?", Kerrigan asked.

'_Ten minutes._', Izsha said. '_Perhaps less. I will use the Nydus Worms, I won't take any chances._'

"Alright.", Kerrigan said. "See you soon, then."

Kerrigan then, with her psionic powers, had summoned a few Drones, four at least, and then delivered the same order to them. Make a Hatchery each. Repeatedly, she contacted every Larva and ordered it to morph into a pair of Zerglings, as well, trying to keep the count of how many she'd have bred in that instant. Her mind was getting weary of handling so many orders and trying to maintain control of her minions, a literal stress test for her powers, but she couldn't afford to weaken up now. The battle would soon be upon her, or she'd be doing it herself.

Perhaps the latter option, after all, even through all the technology and what it offered, the best defense still continued to be a very good offensive.

* * *

"Jefferson, Crooper, come in!", Richter urged, as he looked at the scenery around him, the men he commanded getting into position, weapons tight. "Jefferson, Crooper, not you too, why won't you answer?"

"Sir! Contact, South side!", one of the Firebats said, as something afar began to appear on the cave he was keeping watch in. Even though the tunnels weren't so short or tight, they still remained a better defensive option compared to fighting Zerg in the open. An open field battle, with all the space the Zerg could use to surround their opponents, was definitely the worse of options for a field commander to engage the almost infinite numbers of the Swarm. This experience alone, for those whom lived through it, increased the importance of choke points, passages where the large numbers could be funneled, like it was in the battles of the past, with Thermopylae and the three hundred Spartan soldiers whom defended it. The tighter the passage, the better results and a better fighting chance. If artillery would be available, the numbers could be quickly taken out and a chance to push to the nearby Hive Cluster would be made viable.

"Friendlies coming true!", a voice was heard, coming from the tunnels, as three Marines were seen running to the Firebats and Marines guarding that passage. Richter turned around to see the trio coming and went to meet them.

"I thought I lost you, why didn't you answer me back!?", Richter asked, angry, to Kovack, Ross and Sartine as he approached them.

"Sir, there's no time!", Ross said, attempting to breathe from the exhausting marathon. "Listen, we saw her! She's here, and she's with the Zerg!"

"Are you sure?", Richter asked. "You're sure it's _Nightingale_?"

"One hundred and twenty fekking percent, sir!", Sartine answered, recovering too. "It IS her!"

"Good job then, guys, but I can't get contact Jefferson or Crooper to get the news to HQ!.", Richter said, distressed. "Can one of you head outside and see what's going on?"

"I will.", Kovack said, starting to leave to the entrance where the group came from.

"Alright then.", Richter said. "You two, battle positions, now!"

The two Marines had then headed out to the tunnel where they came from, pointing their weapons and having a rough idea of what they would face. Richter then accessed his intercom once more.

"Jefferson, Crooper, any of you, answer back! Now!", the Colonel said, looking around to see that Nell Penny was simply sitting by some crates, pistols in hand as he waited for something. So were the other Reapers.

"Why t_he hell you're just standing there, Penny_!?", Richter asked, angry.

"Leavin' some for your boys too...", Penny answered, not pretending any care at all.

"I don't believe it!", Richter said, looking upwards, angry. "I DON'T FREAKING BELIEVE IT! **FINE!** Stay there, you asshole! Let's see who the hell laughs last at the debriefing!"

"**INCOMING!**", Richter heard a shout behind him, from one of the Marines under his command. "Zergling pockets! Crisp'em, flamers!"

Richter then started walking forward as well, his rifle in hand. He approached one of the entrances to see some Zerglings coming through.

"Fire at will, fire at will!", ordered Richter.

The troopers followed suit, unleashing the firepower on the nimble strains, whom began to fall by the minute.

Hopefully, he'd hold until backup arrives.

Hopefully.

* * *

He'd been standing there, on his feet, watching the main screen by the wall for minutes on end since he returned from the outside and saw that... thing. That was indeed the last thing he needed right now. It wasn't enough to concern with beasts and their nests outside _Harkonnen_, now he had to keep an eye on a large one that was parked so close to him.

"General?", asked a voice behind Warfield, with that British accent he could recognize. "I've sent the spotters, as you ordered. McCoy and Hetfield, they should be arriving at least within one hour."

"Good.", Warfield answered. "What of the caves?"

"Renoir is setting his base camp, but he still reported no contact.", McGrudd answered. "Dornan and Chapelle have already engaged, they report they found a major breeding ground, they're requesting support."

"Clarify what they need and give it to them.", Warfield said. "The sooner we can clear all this the better. And Richter?"

"No contact yet, sir.", McGrudd answered. "Probably, the mission area must be interfering with communications."

"Get me contact with them ASAP.", Warfield answered. "It's pretty bad to lose people on the first day of work."

"Will do, General.", McGrudd answered. "Should I prepare a team to find them in case we can't contact?"

"Do it.", Warfield answered.

* * *

He ran for a continued time. He felt tired and wearied, his heart to the verge of suffering a strike. But he couldn't stop.

Kovack never had to ever run like this since his training in boot camp. A result of his resocialization into a criminal life as a night-time enforcer for an organization on Tyrador. Fortunately, resocialization procedure would also wipe the person's shameful memories of his previous life, allowing him to not remember it and regret the choices he made. He only wondered why the command in _Harkonnen_ wasn't yet alerted to the presence of the fallen Queen of Blades herself, alive and in presence of the Zerg, as the worst probabilities possible had stated.

Maybe the cave itself was interfering too much with the comms, thus requiring someone to make the marathon and bring the news to the yet unwarned soldiers, Jefferson and Crooper, or something had happened to them. Hopefully, it'd be the former option, not the latter.

His spirits and vigor renewed with the beacons of the eerie sunlight of Char bathing the end of the tunnel ahead. He was almost outside. He continued running until he reached it.

"Jefferson! Crooper!", Kovack called. "Call in HQ, we got-"

Suddenly, he stopped at what he saw. His expression, as he widened his eyes in horror, left it quite clear he didn't like what he saw.

"**MY GOD!**", he roared, as he armed his C-14 and started firing. It didn't take long before a Zergling jumped over him. Two others had followed, coming to his sides as the small monster savagely tore him apart.

Some seconds afterwards, Rell Kovack's body joined those of Oz Jefferson and Gran Crooper. Unlike him, however, whom only had a slim chance to fight back, those two didn't.

They were right on top of those Zerglings when they unburrowed violently and stroke.

* * *

The crosshairs in the C-20A scope normally would only be used by someone with a professional sniping degree or with the proper equipment to work in any sorts of lightning possible. If not, then targeting would not be possible, like in the case of those deep, dark caverns.

Fortunately, Kerrigan had both. She'd come in prepared since she picked the rifle in the Leviathan. She'd come in prepared since her rescue from that facility.

Her scope, equipped with a 'night vision' mode, allowed her to see what was ahead of her, as she aimed her rifle, seeing those Zerglings fall one by one by the massive figures in armored battle suits. Firebats, no doubt, the close combat shock troopers for humanity when the Zerg arrived. With the advanced weaponry Terrans had, some had seen previously the inclusion of flamethrower troops as non-sense and ridiculous, with the exception of those small world skirmishes. The appearance of the Zerg had changed and even enforced their participation, especially in facing the overwhelming Zergling numbers. Zergling numbers that now were falling by the minute due to the ever-spewing flames let out by those who'd kill those small beasts without any mercy or respite. There'd also be heavy gunners, like Marines or Marauders like those she saw on _Verhoeven_, providing support against stragglers or larger Zerg strains. However, there'd be none of those. Kerrigan would have to help those Zerglings out, if she wanted to get those Dominion troopers in time.

Something she started with her first round. On one of the Firebats, aimed at the helmet. The bullet managed to fly through, as the bulky trooper fell into the ground.

"What the!?", one of the Dominion soldiers afar shouted.

"It's her, she's here!", another voice shouted as well. "Press on, someone fire on her!"

Kerrigan then went on her feet as her eye pupils empowered once more, her powers ready to come out into play and assist those Zerglings in their fight. Her left arm reared back and then lounged forward, like other times, as her Kinetic Blast lounged like a bullet on the other Firebat, effectively neutralizing the capacity to contain a concentrated Zergling assault.

However, as she continued her fight, some strange feeling had caught Kerrigan's head, as it began to envelop a series of reactions. She seemed fine, yet, her mind was numb, a fever taking control of her. It was when most Zerglings stopped attacking from all directions and concentrated on where the Firebats had fallen.

'_What the?_', she thought, as she aimed her rifle and fired at one of the Marines, hitting him first on the torso, as she missed, then at the helmet, getting her aim right. '_What's going on with me? What the hell is this dizzy feeling?_', she continued to think, as she shook her head and returned to her senses. The Zerglings then began dispersing and heading to other entrances again. Kerrigan saw that an entrance was clear, but more would need to be cleared for an effective result. She then started heading to another entrance, before more Dominion soldiers decided to fill in the gap. She stopped and her eyes glowed once more, as her grip had caught one of the Firebats that had come close. He lifted him and then threw him at the group that was clustered together, making them all fall like dominoes, allowing the Zerglings to come close and come atop of them. Suddenly, the fever returned, yet a bit lighter compared to last time, where the Zerglings began to concentrate on that position again.

'_Not again, come on, Sarah, get a grip of yourself!_', Kerrigan thought, angry, as she shook her head again, beginning to move to another entrance and clear it out, as intended.

'_Kerrigan?_', Izsha called. '_What's going on?_'

"Nothing much, Izsha, but things here are a bit bad.", Kerrigan answered. "I'm seeing a good number of people of various types. Marines, Firebats, Marauders, Medics... At least they don't have any vehicles with them."

'_I'll be coming soon, Kerrigan._', Izsha said. '_Can you get to them?_'

"Will take a bit more of work then I expected, but will do.", Kerrigan answered, a bit distressed as she prepared her rifle to fire at the Firebats ahead.

Kerrigan took a deep breath as she fired a round, hitting one of the Firebats. That was going to be a troubling battle, and all because of that weird, dizzy fever...

* * *

Chaos and fire, both muzzle and spewed flames, erupted in the once dark cavern. He looked around to see that his men were holding, but were also faulting. So far, all he'd seen was Zergling pockets, the main steamroller mass of the Zerg, used in hundreds with the old notion that strength in numbers would be enough to overrun them. These Zergling pockets have been easy to deal with, as all there was needed to do was not to let them inside, and the Firebats were doing a pretty decent work, but that wasn't going to last either. So far, there's been no tremors, meaning no Nydus Worms were still digging, opening new flanking paths wherever they wanted. Air or artillery options, inside a cave, weren't an option either.

However, even with the advantages he had on his favor, allowing him even to push forward, the fact that Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades, was seen amongst the creatures, changed the whole seemingly easy scenario. Not only was she amongst them, she was helping them in fighting the Dominion. And her, being a powerful psionic herself and one with a history of tactical combat training, made her an increased threat, forcing Colonel Richter to wait until reinforcements arrived.

'_What the hell is it taking so long for any news?_', Richter thought, nervous, his rifle in tight grip as he proceeded forward. A Marine walked up to him.

"Sir, Kerrigan's here!", the Marine shouted. "She's neutralizing our Firebats! We're not gonna hold longer!"

"If we want to live longer, we HAVE to hold!", Richter urged. "Keep firing at them!"

The Marine then returned to his position, as Richter had only seen those Zerglings approaching, endlessly.

'_Time we introduce the new toys..._', Richter thought.

* * *

Another Firebat had fallen. Their ammunition was doubtlessly running dry and they would not have any other option soon except to run. They weren't aware Kerrigan had nothing but Zerglings, but they were also losing their firepower. Without the flamethrower troopers, it would be virtually easy.

Kerrigan wanted to smirk, but she didn't. There was virtually no pleasure in killing people whom were fighting with a reason. _Fear._ Fear of those monsters, who'd stop at nothing if there was no one to stand at their way at every turn. Those men, following their orders, didn't deserve to die. The dog ordering them deserved. Their Emperor deserved. Those would enter the tally she'd deliver to him, along with the billions he condemned when he left her to her fate in Tarsonis.

"Almost there...", Kerrigan mumbled to herself, when she saw something that she knew it couldn't be there.

Something in form of two buggy-like vehicles, in four wheels with a sleek appearance. Atop of those buggies, lied small turrets, with barrels lit with fire. These buggies quickly approached the entrance and pointed the turrets at Kerrigan's direction, making the lady widen her eyes in what would come next. The turrets then spilled their flames, like if they came from the nostrils of a dragon's nose, coming in a straight long line towards Kerrigan, whom ran from that fire.

'_Dammit!_', Kerrigan thought, angry, as she's also seen those flames engulf Zerglings in a line as well. '_I thought they couldn't fit vehicles in here! How the heck they fit those!?_'

Kerrigan stopped her thoughts as she powered her Kinetic Blast once more, lounging it to that vehicle. The blast of her powers made the vehicle explode and be launched backwards into the air, falling flipped up making it incapable of fighting. Just as she was about to fire the second Kinetic Blast, however, the other buggy started behaving erratically, trembling itself. Suddenly, it started unfolding itself, it's armor plates twisting open as new shapes appeared. Two legs had come out from beneath the buggy and joined the frontal wheels, whom seemed to now work as kneel joints. The side plates that opened had turned vertically, as the pilot cabin itself also started flipping vertically upwards, some of those plates closing down like a shell to form a torso. The remainder had turned into some sort of shield arms, with the two back wheels serving as shoulder decoration.

'_What in the name of hell is that!?_', Kerrigan thought, amazed and shocked at the same time, as the new transformed machine started firing back, it's flame this time being more thicker, hitting more Zerglings in a cone, yet it was shorter. Kerrigan simply looked at the machine, and what is was capable of doing. Then, her expression switched to one of increasing anger as her eyes lit her golden, fierce yellow, and she grasped the Hellbat, lifting the machine and forcing her hand, closed into a fist, tightening it. The mechanoid then started trembling itself, in mid air, as the metal itself began to be crushed like it it was under pressure, forcing into itself like a ball. No doubt the person inside was screaming on intense pain, on such a small suit, yet larger than those of the Firebats or Marauders. Then, an explosion happened as the fueling tanks for the flamethrower had no doubt ripped open from the crush, meaning Kerrigan had accomplished her intention of putting the machine out of business. She then threw it aside, and picked her rifle to resume her shooting.

'_Well, compared to what I've seen, lately, this is new._', Kerrigan thought.

* * *

He'd just been standing there, watching the whole confusion that battle was. He let out a yawn in boredom at the beginning, but the numbers had beaten the fires of those Firebats. He simply smiled, from within the mask.

"Well, boys!", Nell Penny said, as he got up from the crates he sat in. "Party's heating up! Let's heat up a bit more!"

With this, he cocked his pistols as the rockets in his back fired up and came to life. So did the other Reapers around him, ready to make the said 'party' an unforgettable one. Cloud from missile propellant erupted as Penny let out a mad howl and fired both pistols upwards, hitting the supposedly stable cave roof.

A huge shockwave and dust flew as the muscular, insane-driven gun-toting soldiers took off into flight in that cavern.

* * *

Stress took over Horace Warfield as he walked from one point to another in the dark Command Room. Stress and anxiety, something made a clear sign as he looked over at the watch. Thirty minutes had passed since the operation began. By then, minute updates had been delivered by all the teams conducting the cleansing of the cave systems to the General.

All but one team. The team led by his second-in-command, Colonel Clancy Richter. Despite the possible theory the caves could be interfering with communications, Richter would have sent someone outside to contact HQ and deliver the news.

This left only one theory: _Richter met something on the cavern_. And, strangely, a cold shiver on his spine said it had something or everything to do with that giant beast right beside his fortress.

McGrudd had noticed the General's anxiety. He then walked up close to him.

"General?", he asked.

Warfield then stopped and looked directly into McGrudd's eyes.

"Well?", Warfield asked. "Anything yet?"

"Nothing yet.", McGrudd said.

"And the team, is it assembled?", Warfield asked.

"Almost.", McGrudd answered. "Will take another ten minutes."

"They leave in five.", Warfield said. "In whatever condition they are, they leave in five minutes."

"But, General, this may only be a trouble with communications-", McGrudd started when he was interrupted.

"_Communication problems don't take more than a half-hour, McGrudd!_", Warfield returned, angry. "And Richter doesn't hang up on command nor delays on updates! Something went wrong."

"This may be a trap, sir.", McGrudd said. "Sending another team just to investigate may cost more lives."

"Then we'll find out what's causing all this.", Warfield said. "Or, if my fears are right, who's causing all this."

"_Who?_", McGrudd asked. "Why make that question? Who else could lead the Swarm other than Kerrigan? Only she's their Queen, only she could be responsible for this!"

"That's what I'm afraid of.", Warfield said.

* * *

"**INCOMING!**", was the first shout of Nell Penny on his entry into combat on the matter. That was when he violently landed atop a Zergling and fired rapid rounds on the other Zerglings, earning their attention.

"Come on, come to pappa, come get some!", Penny said, as he grabbed one of the Zerglings he kicked and took flight, turning around to burn another two Zerglings with his rockets when he took off. After almost reaching the roof, he let the Zergling fall to his death. He then returned back down, firing his pistols and unleashing his maniacal screams and laughs that his comrades knew too well in their years of service. He always have had his animal side unleashed every time he went into a fight. Not only this, but he made fun of the battle, time and again, many times at the risk of getting himself killed, with his stunts and moves and his undisciplined, exhibitionist mood. It wasn't enough for him to kill, he wanted to do it with his style. This often caused some trouble with the higher brass, notably Colonel Richter, whom was down there firing rounds and barking orders, and General Warfield, whom had to deal with Penny once. Also, Penny's tendencies, like a disease, have seemed to spread to his comrades in arms, whom began to perform stunts as well, as those ensured the maximum collateral damage against the Zerg.

Penny landed and already began firing shots again, some of those ripping Zerglings wide open. For those whom were familiarized with how Reapers fought, they knew the P-38 Gauss Pistol, nicknamed the Scythe, was especially fabricated to fight Zerglings and skewer severely the armor of other, more armored Zerg. All Reapers, like Penny, seemed to always use these pistols in pairs, increasing combat efficiency.

"Woo-Wee!", a nearby Reaper shouted, as he was firing his rounds on four Zerglings, making each beast fall down dead. "Murder time smoothy, boss!"

"Sell'em the cookies too, Mackie!", Penny said. "Let's see how they like it well baked!"

"Ha ha! Sure thing!", 'Mackie' said, as he picked a circle like apparatus, one that reminded a metal platter with a red light on the very top. Mackie pressed the button and launched the object, like a disc, at a cluster of Zerglings. The object began quickly beeping itself before it detonated, the large, artillery like explosion engulfing the Zerglings and making a large number of them fly upwards, blood flying and limbs being ripped apart with the violence of the Deuterium-eight explosion. The explosions also made the cavern shake and tremor.

"**YOU IDIOT!**", Penny heard a furious voice that must have only belonged to Colonel Richter. "_Are you crazy!?_ One more D-8 like that and you might bring the whole cave down our heads!"

"Fancy mammy!", Penny replied back, mocking. "Love you too, Colonel!"

Penny then kept on firing at the Zergling packs as he jumped around with his jet pack, acting like a maniac.

"Kovack, are you there!?", Richter said. "Kovack, Jefferson, Crooper, ANY OF YOU, **CALL BACK NOW!** We're under attack here and need backup ASAP, someone tell me you called HQ!"

Richter himself was now approaching the point of desperation. Still no news of any contact or promise of reinforcements.

That meant something happened. And it wasn't good.

"Carlton, Menner!", Richter roared, as two Marines stopped firing and joined Richter. "Listen to me, don't answer! You must get out of here now! You must go outside and call for help, tell Warfield himself to send more men! Do you understand!? **YOU MUST CALL FOR HELP! GO!**"

The two Marines then began to run to the cave entrance. Suddenly a tremor, much larger than that previously provoked by Penny's and continuous. Richter's eyes widened as he knew what this meant.

They were coming.

* * *

Kerrigan wasn't new to things out of explanation. She already had seen something out of order or sense even before she first fought the Zerg. She had seen the beginning of robotic security in some high-level Umojan installations when she was serving the Confederacy, she had seen genetics programs and other different things that the common person would find it impossible to exist or hard to explain.

But this was different. She'd only been returned to herself for the last days and she'd seen more than most on the Ghost Program. She'd seen new, larger armor, she'd seem new weapons of war. Now, she was witnessing groups of her Zerglings being ripped to shreds by shots fired by men flying in rockets. Men whom were using their weapons liberally and unleashing even explosive charges on the Zergling pockets, risking to demolish this cave without caring for the consequences.

'_Great._', she thought. '_First I see Transformers, now I'm seeing Rocket Men. Been missing too much for just four years._'

She advanced into the field, already preparing to fire, when she felt a tremor riddle the cavern, a tremor that was stronger then that of the explosives launched by the Dominion soldiers in rockets, one that shook the floor, walls and roof of the cavern and tunnels ahead and behind her. A tremor that didn't seem to stop.

Looking for the source of the tremor, her eye then caught something exceptionally large bursting out of the ground, opening a crater that was filled by the creature coming out of it. The creature was worm-like and alien, one that extended it's giant maws like a sea shell opening, as it unleashed a mighty feral roar. Between those maws, stood a circular maw one, riddled with teeth. This maw, however, was not used for aggression, but rather as a door. After all, nothing delivered more mobility for the Zerg than a Nydus Worm, a beast that used it's throat as it's transportation system.

As Kerrigan looked at the beast, especially one that blocked the entrance, making the two Marines jump back and fall down, she smiled. It must have been her...

'_Damn, Izsha, you know how to make an entrance..._', she thought, as she started to walk in shooting, and more Nydus Worms erupted. From the said maw of the Nydus Worm, a literal torrent of minions, now larger and more varied then Zerglings, like Hydralisks and Roaches, all lounging at the now meager resistance, that bravely holding the line for their lives, yet it was an effort in vain. The minions had then began their subsequent strikes. Zerglings lept atop of the Marines, Medics and Marauders, beginning to claw them with their savage limbs as many others surrounded those whom where down. Hydralisks either attacked up close, lounging their own scythe-like arms with the savagery and strength of bears, or unleashing the poisonous Needle Spines from their flaps, that dealt as much damage to those Dominion soldiers as the finest sniper in the sector. The Roaches acted curiously different from the Hydralisks however, first spitting their acid saliva over their target, that then began to debate itself in pain over the absurdly fast corrosive acid, and then they would approach and use their thick scythe-like limbs to neutralize the target. One of the Roaches, however, was hit in time by a Punisher Grenade fired by a nearby Marauder. Muzzle fire, spines and heavier projectiles rained around the messy battle that was drawing to an absurdly fast conclusion.

Suddenly, however, an explosion bursted out of one of the Worms, doubtless belonging to one of the men in jet packs above, flying as they shot all and any Zerg they could find. Despite they could be still caught by the Hydralisks and their spines, the slow, four-second process the beasts took to fire gave those soldiers enough time to maneuver around and fire again freely. Out of those Kerrigan saw, one stood out from the rest, as he seemed to not only be killing Zerg, but also enjoying it, unleashing maniacal laughter and screams as he fired at everywhere and nowhere, sometimes up, clear and deliberately wasting ammunition. Still, despite the fact those soldiers and their twin pistols couldn't hold forever against the numbers of the Swarm, the explosives alone, like it did with that Worm, that was forced to retreat, before a second explosive had afflicted, blasting open a gaping hole, as flesh bits and blood spilled, making the Nydus Worm fall dead to the ground. Kerrigan then heard the responsible, the man doubtless showing himself off again, unleashing a mad howl.

"**WOOO!**", the man shouted out loud, like if he was the center of all attention. "**TAKE THAT, LOSER! WHO'S DADDY!? WHO'S DADDY!? WHO'S DADDY!?** Come on, Reapers! Party's too good to not rock and roll!"

"Sure thing, chief!", another man in a jet pack, this 'Reaper' had answered.

Kerrigan had then been paying attention to both those persons whom liked to fly all around with those packs. So, the exhibitionist was the leader of this pack. _The die was cast, then._ He would go first, then his fellow psychopath friends. As she was about to lounge her Kinetic Blast in the leader, however, she heard a laughter as another Reaper was about to lounge another explosive device on another Nydus Worm. She was forced to delay this plan as she concentrated her powers, using her grip to get the aggressing Reaper. He was effectively caught, and she thus forced her fist down, making the Reaper crash quick and violent into the ground. As she suspected, those people could evade bullets and spines but they never could do it against the potential of a capable, trained psionic. A small explosion happened as the crash must have damaged the rocket fuel tanks, causing a domino effect that ultimately led to that explosion. Then, a larger one, although over a wall of the cavern, making it shake. The explosive from the Reaper that failed to throw it at it's target.

"Hey, lookie here, gentlemen!", Kerrigan heard the exhibitionist say. "We got a _celebrity_ in the house and we ain't even extended the red carpet! Let's extend the bitch our courtesy!"

"Shit!", Kerrigan exclaimed, as she triggered her rifle and began to fire the C-20A rounds at the other four Reapers that were then flying at her direction. Two of those rounds had hit one of the Reapers as the others flew off. One or two Reapers started shooting at her, forcing her to back away. A third was about to fire when a needle spine had hit him from the left, in the neck, followed by two more on his left side as he ultimately fell. The second Reaper fired a shot directly at Kerrigan, but a leaping Zergling had jumped in front of her, taking the hit as it fell into the ground. Shocked and surprised by the leap, Kerrigan jumped a bit behind as she saw the corpse of that Zergling, now letting out blood from beneath it as bullet holes could be seen. Not understanding what happened, Kerrigan tried to get up as the Reaper fired again, having yet another Zergling jump to die for her. Her battle reflexes finally kicking in, she picked her rifle as the Reaper was about to fire again and pulled the trigger. The bullet had then hit the rocket-wearing trooper, making it release from the wall he was holding onto as he fell to the ground. The Reaper attempted to get on his feet, but was then taken down by a leaping Zergling, whom began to assault him. The Zergling was then joined by others, whose combine weight almost prevented it from coming up, as the claws of the smaller Zerg tore him to pieces.

The other Reapers, despite the chance to take a hit on Kerrigan, were hard pressed to dodge most of the needle spines being lounged by the Hydralisks below. Kerrigan herself began to aim her rifle to fire when something caught her from behind. Then a blow to her back and another to the back of her head.

Then, she was grabbed, as the sound of rocket jets boomed behind her.

"Hi there, sweety.", whispered a voice on her right, that belonged to that Reaper leader. "_Wanna take a ride?_"

Wind current and dust flew at her feet as she suddenly felt her self pulled and flying into mid-air. Her instincts made her unleash an unintentional scream as her captor flew her away.

"**STRAP ON, BITCH!**"

* * *

A mayhem once increasing, even more with the fall of the Firebats thanks to the previously powerful Queen Bitch of the Universe, bursted out all like a tsunami or a stored river, when the dam opens or is destroyed, much alike the Nydus Worms that suddenly erupted, unleashing their mighty roar. Before this roar, some men, like Clancy Richter, had diverted their attention to the new addition of problems that were overwhelming them by the minute. Before this roar, these men, like Richter, increased their eyes in desperation, even more when the Colonel when he saw one of those worms erupt right in the cave entrance, trampling the two men he sent back and effectively blocking their only escape route.

"Everyone get back, tight up everyone together, one group!", shouted Richter to his intercom. "Now!"

The problem was that, as he looked around him, his men around were everywhere and spread over, even more with Zerg surrounding them at every turn. An explosion then bursted near Richter as he saw one of those Nydus Worms get blasted. A D-8 detonation. No doubt a work of that irresponsible maniac, whom was now gloating himself out and drawing more attention to himself, and his band of equal state animals. They were flying all around then, on the upper parts of the cave, shooting rounds that wouldn't last forever at all Zerg types, not just the Zerglings their pistols were meant for. A Zergling then had ran straight for him. Richter wasted no time and unleashed his rifle on the creature before it could leap over him too. Half the salvo of bullets on his rifle clip were enough to make the Zergling fall down and die, temporarily save him, even though the odds of being saved were virtually dim.

"Pull back!", Richter ordered, as a large Zerg almost his size, a Roach, approached his position. "_Pull back, now!_"

Richter and three Marines that were with him then gradually stepped backwards as they concentrated their C-14 on the said creature, before it could get in range to unleash it's deadly acid against him. However, as the bullets attempted to penetrate the thick, horn-riddled carapace of the creature, they only seemed to entrench themselves at it, as the carapace absorbed the impact without any damage at all. Sometimes it even deflected the bullets fired. Two explosions then emerged at the cavern, one of a Reaper that screamed as he fell down to the ground and another larger, doubtlessly of his explosive that he couldn't launch in time. Richter then aimed his rile at the creature's small head as it appeared, firing the round and making a direct hit, having the Roach finally cease his march and fall down dead. Then, came in a dim, yet audible gloating of Nell Penny, wiping out Richter's hopes that the Reaper had 'reaped' the fruits of his egomaniacal seeding. His eyes were looking at the losing scenario, as his men were overrun in practically all directions and were either being ripped apart by Zerglings or Roaches, or being shot at by needle spines unleashed by Hydralisks.

As he looked across the battlefield, he saw the figure he feared the most in the center of it all. The female figure that every men and women in the sector came to fear and hate. Sarah Kerrigan. The Queen of Blades. She whom commanded those Zerg, despite she now was practically stripped of her former infestation. She no longer bore those nightmarish wings or even floated at times as she unleashed her psionic potential. She was now using her powers and even fighting with a C-20A rifle, a standard Ghost issue weaponry, as she donned some different environment suit and a ponytail in her hair. Still, even though she wasn't the nightmarish alien succubus the Dominion came to fear, even with that different look she seemed to imposing and deadly. At least temporarily, as Richter saw a Zergling jump in front of her and make the lady fall to the ground. He saw it as he noticed his line of sight was clear and she didn't see him yet, she was focused on that Reaper that was firing at her. He pointed his rifle, in preparation to fire.

Richter was then interrupted by a bursting tremor that came from his left, one that was enough to disturb his aim, forcing him to turn as he saw the feared caterpillar-like Hydralisk, imposing it's feral roar as it struck with it's arm at one of the Marines, putting him down. Blood pressure and adrenaline rushed up on Richter as he raised his rifle and fired non-stop at the Hydralisk, emptying his magazine. Luckily, the Hydralisk sustained enough lead to fall down before it could do the same to the Colonel. Luckily.

With the Hydralisk fallen, he picked a rifle clip, one full with unfired bullets, and then reloaded the rifle, returning his sight to the Queen lady, only to see her suddenly grabbed from behind by Penny. A hope increased on him as he could see an end to it.

'_C'mon, Penny._', Richter thought. '_Come on, you crazy son of a bitch, finish her now!_'

Instead, rocket fire bursted from behind Penny, as he took off carrying Kerrigan, whom screamed midflight to an afar cave upwards, as he laughed maniacally.

"**STRAP ON, BITCH!**", Penny roared from afar.

"**PENNY, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING!?**", Richter asked, upset and mad. "**THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?**"

"Boss!", Richter heard the nearby trooper shout, in desperation. "What we're gonna do!? We're in deep, boss! WE'RE HOSED!"

"RUN, SARTINE! **RUN!**", Richter roared as he started to run to a nearby, small cave entrance, Sartine and his colleague Ross following him inside. The cavern was virtually dark and wasn't as forgiving with running as the others, meaning one wrong step and the one running would trip and fall, eventually being caught by the Zerg whom were now chasing the trio. Zerglings and a Hydralisk seemed to have either seen, despite this couldn't be well proved yet scientifically, or caught their scent and thus followed.

"Shit!", Ross shouted as he looked behind and then raised his rifle to fire. "They're on our tails, boss!"

The three Marines continued running for their lives for as much time as they could remember, making a right turn as then they stopped, their torso lights revealing the last sight they wanted to see.

The sight of a wall of rocks standing in front of them. Blocking their path.

"DEAD END!?", Sartine shouted, desperate. "A FREAKING DEAD END!?"

The creatures then caught up with them. Their end had come. Screams followed.

The Horseshoe had run out of luck.

* * *

The many eyes of the minions that were running all across the battlefield, fighting those Dominion soldiers that had come to disturb her plans, were enough to make Izsha smile. They were clearly looking for trouble when they entered this cave. Or maybe not. Maybe they were thinking this cavern was empty, explaining the small contingent of soldiers sent there to make sure the place was clean. Still, it was irrelevant. They couldn't get out alive. The Nydus Worm she sent blocked their only exit. They wouldn't leave, too. Izsha would not have more Dominion soldiers interrupting her plans concerning the campaign on Char.

Not to mention her associate, her weapon, was performing in ways that slightly exceeded the initial expectations. Kerrigan was no slow-learner nor one whom only learned of things in the hard way, despite the intentional episode with the Larvae. She learned well, she reacted well, like a professional Zerg commander. Izsha's plans could proceed earlier on schedule than what she anticipated. Some good news, at the least.

Still, despite the winning battle and the dwindling soldiers, Izsha could not see Kerrigan anywhere in that field. Especially because it was particularly hard to switch through so many eyes that fought and bled on that cavern. That was one of many reasons why Izsha liked to watch through Overlords and Overseers rather than through the eyes of the minions on the ground. The Overlords and their flying capacity delivered a better vision from upwards, pretty much like anything else that could fly.

"Where are you, little girl?", mumbled Izsha.

Izsha continued to look through the eyes of all those minions, attempting to find her.

It took some time for Izsha to notice that she was not there.

She was not there, she was not at the base, nor she was anywhere else.

"Shit!", Izsha exclaimed.

* * *

The cavern chamber was practically a smaller one, with a very much dim lightining from a lava crack below. Stalactites and stalagmites decorated the place, as well as diagonal chiseled rock and some flowstone in one of the sections of this empty chamber.

Empty no longer. For, on one of the three entrances to this chamber, a dim orange light appeared and had grown, followed by a roaring sound of small, yet potent rocket engines, a maniacal male laughter and a desperate, fearful female attempts at a scream. Suddenly, two figures bursted out of that entrance, flying upwards and spinning, to the point of Kerrigan almost feel dizzy.

"**LOOK OUT, BITCH, YOU'RE GONNA FLY!**", roared Nell Penny, as he then, when he reached a certain height from the ground, released Kerrigan having her fall on the ground. "**WHOOPS!**"

Kerrigan then fell to the ground violently, pain soaring through her body.

"**TOUCHDOWN! WOOOO!**", Penny roared out loud, out of control, as he brutally landed on the ground, boasting himself out while he quickly fired eight rounds on the roof. "**WOO-HOO! WHO'S THE MAN!? WHO'S YOUR MAN!? WHO LOVES YOU AND WHO DO YOU LOVE!? PENNY! SOUND IT OUT AGAIN!? PENNY! SOUND IT OUT AGAIN!? PENNY!**"

Kerrigan, grimacing in great pain, had attempted to get on her feet, seeing her rifle up close, whom fell with her. It did not seem like it was damaged. She tried reaching to it while that douche, that man called 'Penny', boasted himself in his unbearable tone. As she tried to run and was about to get the rifle however, she was thumped as she flew to her right side, for that Reaper had activated his jet packs again and kicked Kerrigan violently. She then screamed in pain as she hit a wall.

"**WOOOO!**", Penny literally screamed. "**AND HE DOES IT AGAIN, LADIES AND GENTS'!** Come on, this is freaking easy! IT'S FREAKING RIDICULOUS! Get up, bitch, GET UP! Thought I was fighting the mighty Queenie bitch herself! C'mon, show me what you got!"

"SHUT UP!", Kerrigan said, as she got one her feet again. "I'm not gonna do it, you hear me!?"

"Aww, how bad!", Penny mocked. He then activated his packs and jumped right at her direction. "**CATCH!**"

Her eyes quickly widened as she jumped aside in an effort to avoid this maniac. He nearly had hit his target, instead kicking the wall, letting out a bit of pain. She took this opportunity to run as fast as she could to reach for her rifle. As she nearly reached it, she felt the painful kick on her back, passing by the rifle as she fell down, as Penny got ahead and landed.

"**OLÉ!**", Penny screamed, as he also laughed, while Kerrigan remained on the ground and in absolute, abject pain that no ordinary human could ever stand. "C'mon, it's gonna be over like that!? **ME, WINNING THAT QUICK AND EASY!? I'LL WANT DOUBLE THE PAY FOR THAT!**"

Kerrigan then had enough.

'_That's it!_', she thought. '_Enough with the Miss Nice Girl!_'

"**COME ON, GET UP YOU SLAG!**", Penny roared. Kerrigan simply looked at him with anger. She got on her knees quickly as she unleashed a Kinetic Blast. Penny, however, dodged the fire to the right. She looked behind and saw the rifle was close this time. She ran for it, but stopped when she heard the rockets boost again, making her fall to the ground. Penny had come in and was about to land on top of her when she calculated the timing. She then extended her right leg, aiming at Penny.

The strength which she unleashed her leg, combined with the speed Penny accumulated, ensured that the sensitive regions had delivered a large pain multiplied twice, making him back a bit and fall on his knees, as his hands covered his now traumatized crotch. Kerrigan wasted no time and reached her C-20A, picking it up and priming it to fire.

Penny, all of a sudden, however, quivered in fear, raising his hands in the air as he stared at the Ghost lady, aiming her rifle at him with an absolutely angry expression in her face.

"**WHOA, WHOA, WAIT!**", Penny said, fearfully. "Let's- Let's have a little talk..."

"OH, NOW YOU WANT TO TALK, HUH!?", roared Kerrigan. "NOW IS NOT SO FUNNY, HUH, YOU ON YOUR KNEES AND A RIFLE POINTED AT YOU!?"

"Please, PLEASE, DON'T KILL ME!", Penny begged, almost as if he was mocking.

"**SHUT UP!**", roared Kerrigan.

"PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA DIE-", Penny continued, but interrupted when he quickly drew his pistol and fired directly at Kerrigan. The shot had hit her C-20A, scaring her as she was caught by surprise, making the rifle fly aside and fall to the ground. Before she could notice, another shot was fired. The round had drilled through her right kidney, making her scream in pain as she fell to the ground. "**WOOOO!**", Penny roared as he got back on his feet, laughing maniacally in triumph.

"**OWNED!**", Penny roared. "**FEKKIN' OWNED! LIKE-A-BOSS-TRIPLE-FEKKING-A! WOOOOO!**", he added as, with each word said, he swinged his right arm in a clockwise circle and motioned his body to emphasize his manhood, as he displayed it in waves in such a vulgar manner. As he howled he stopped motioning and looked upwards, firing irresponsibly his ammunition on the rather small cave chamber ceiling. Some of the rounds had hit the stalactites, but those had not fallen of out pure, bad luck, for Kerrigan.

Kerrigan had been down there, wounded in pain as Penny simply laughed maniacally.

"Ha ha, now **THAT** was fun!", gloated Penny in satisfaction, walking casually as he approached Kerrigan, walking and laughing. Kerrigan only looked at him in full pain of the wound, knowing no doubt this would be her end. As he came close to her, looking at her with disdain, he smiled behind the mask. "But, honest, bitch? I expected much more.", he added, before aiming his pistols at her. "Oh, what the hell, you ain't even worth the last punchline. _Say cheese..._"

Kerrigan closed her eyes shut for the inevitable outcome.

_Click._

Kerrigan then opened her eyes at the sound, not knowing what kind of miracle was that.

_Click. Click. Click._

"What the f- **NOW IT HAPPENS!?**", Penny shouted angry.

Kerrigan simply smirked at the event.

Blessed be the miracle of empty ammunition. Especially when one like Nell Penny wastes it away.

"What are you smiling at, you whore!?", Penny asked, angry, looking at her, then at the pistols. "You know what?", he asked, throwing the pistols aside. "_I don't even need those._ This way will be so much more **FUN!**", he added, as he grabbed Kerrigan, whom widened her eyes, and threw her to another side. She fell in pain on the floor as Penny laughed again.

She looked to one side and she saw it. Her rifle. Her reflexes kicking in, she withstood the bullet pain in her belly as she crawled in a hurry to pick up the rifle.

As she picked, however, her eyes expressed desperation and lost hope. She could see the hole on one of the laterals of the gun. The C-20A was damaged. It was a lost cause.

Suddenly, at the same time, her numb, dizzy state from early had struck her. She was feeling dizzy as she turned her eyes to Penny whom was walking at her.

'_Come on, not now!_', Kerrigan thought, desperate. '_Not now!_'

Still, as she tried to shake her head, like it worked previous times, this time it wasn't working. The numb feeling continued to grip her as she was struggling to keep herself conscient. Suddenly, her eyes, whom were almost blurring, could see yellow fire erupt as Penny prepared to deliver one more blow. Without control of herself, she then raised her right hand and forced it forward, towards Penny, like if she was trying to use something with her powers. Yet, with the pain and exhaustion her fight with the Reaper caused, nothing happened.

"No, get away!", Kerrigan screamed, involuntarily. "**GET AWAY!**"

Penny only laughed as he began to lift and lounge himself towards her, screaming a pure, insane roar. Kerrigan's body continued to motion the hand as he came even more closer to doing it, closer to finish his life.

That's when something came out of her right hand. Something that was bright and furious, that was strong and imposing.

Something like... _Lightning_. And that lightning caught Penny, as the Reaper suddenly got stopped in mid-air, debating in pain at the gigantic amount of kilowatts being released by Kerrigan's hand. The girl's eyes widened in disbelief at what she was doing. She was _unleashing lightning from her hand_, something only aliens like the Protoss could do! But also her body was weakening further. The effort was just too much. The electrical current that ran through Penny by the continued lightning, as he screamed in total pain, continued for a few seconds before the back, with the jet packs, was caught in flames and then exploded. Detonating itself and Penny's upper body along.

What remained of Penny's body, in other words, his legs, fell harmlessly to the ground as the lightning stopped and Kerrigan's hand fell along, her body finally collapsing into the ground. Her body was now too fragile and then slowly spasmed into shock as her vision went even more blurred, beginning to dark itself, as her conscience was fading away. Her breathing was extremely weak.

When she closed her eyes, all she could feel was cold. She couldn't move on her own, since.

* * *

X

* * *

**FINAL COMMENTS:**

Okay, let's first get to on why I took **TWO** weeks instead of one to write this. Well, going straight, I was actually about to finish it past week, when the motherboard did me a favor of burning out. The thing is practically two years old and NOW it freaking burned! Either it's just me, or products are not so durable as lately?

Now, the chapter. People will no doubt complain on the exaggerated amount of capitalized letters, unnecessary gloating and stuff, but that can be explained by the one-shot character I made for this chapter, AKA Nell Penny, the douchebag Reaper. I made Penny this way because I wanted to write the most bastard, disgusting, abusive character of all time, one to surpass Braxton or even Joffrey, from _Game of Thrones_. Well, I'm not sure if the writing here is enough to describe him or hate him, feel free to criticize me and even say this was a bad chapter. But, if people asked my opinion, if they asked me about Nell Penny, I'd say he's somewhat like Deadpool, except he's not a bit cool and he's not a guy you wanna cheer for. The final battle, between Kerrigan and Penny, lacks indeed more detailed description. Well, it's a bit more complicated and would take three days plus to write it over, and I'm already OVERDUE a week, to clear define how's this battle. But the important parts, that she could fire lightning and how that'll help her on the next fights, like in the game, were put on. This and Colonel Richter and how things will transpire against Warfield. At least this I could put up.

The said '_tutorial_' part, IMO, was a necessary part of the story. As it is the cave, the reason why Kerrigan fought for it. Explanations for that and Kerrigan's ability to fire lightning will be on next chapter.

Other than this, I tried describing as much as I could, and thus apologize for lacking in content this chapter. At least one thing I got straight, though, was the purpose of this chapter, to make it Char-centric, like the next battles will. Next chapter will be used to keep up with the other POVs.

Until next week, where I think the chapter will be shorter than this one. It'll be at least two 'peace' chapters before I consider heading to the next one, which will be the Za'gara ZvZ we've all seen in HotS. IMO, I think that, out of most missions in HotS, that was the most original and fit the story best. See ya!


	12. Chapter X - Victorious, But Not Unscarre

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER X - VICTORIOUS, BUT NOT UNSCARRED**

* * *

**CAVE SYSTEMS, CRACKED PEAKS, CHAR**  
**FOUR HOURS LATER**

The darkness of those cave tunnels, covered in rock and dirt, were broken by beams of lights spurt out by the Dominion troops that now crossed that tunnel entrance. Marines and other troops walked slowly, weapons tight in their hands, clearly expecting a not-so-friendly company.

"Starting field record thirty-six twenty-one, Planet Char, cave systems under mountain set, codenamed '_Cracked Peaks_'.", the leading Marine recorded on his helmet. "Third Lieutenant Dorian Sedlex, Terran Dominion 577th Riflemen, recording. Assignment is search and retrieval of human assets lost in previous operation regarding this location. Assets comprise of approximately fifty-seven Dominion Marines in full CMC-300 gear, seven members of the Dominion Field Emergency Medical Corps, wearing CMC-400 light combat suits, six Dominion Reapers of the 'Whirlwind Reapers' squadron, led by Lieutenant Nell Penny, eight Dominion Marauders of the 12th Heavy Weapons Squadron and eight Firebats of Hellraiser Company. Assets lost during first hours of mission related to Operation Janitor. Commander responsible for assignment was Colonel Clancy Richter, second-in-command to General Horace Warfield. Approaching mission area, initial waypoint, supposed base camp."

Sedlex and his Marines walked on slowly across the cavern, but stopped when they saw something on the path there was not be. Lights riddled the cave to reveal a gigantic hole in the middle of the path, with rocks and dirt still falling down. The tunnel apparently was J-shaped, with a curve at the very bottom, leading to the underground.

"Holy shit.", one of the Marines behind Sedlex exclaimed. "Was this hole there? How the hell did Richter and his men manage to cross?"

"I don't know.", Sedlex answered. "Maybe there wasn't this hole here. I'm not seeing constructs of any kind."

"Nydus Worms?", another Marine asked.

"It's possible.", Sedlex answered. "That means Richter's team was cut off. We'll need something to come across this, though."

"You think we can jump through it?", the first Marine asked.

"Too wide.", Sedlex answered. "We better call in headquarters, requesting an engineering crew."

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

All she could see was darkness. She felt nothing, she heard nothing. It had been like this for hours. For her, one part was worried she wouldn't wake in time. Another didn't care, time was irrelevant. All she could feel was cold. She was extremely weak for hours in both body and spirit. All she had were her memories, especially the recent ones. How that Reaper named Penny had managed what none did. To fight and outmatch her. The Queen of Blades, she whom devastated entire fleets and armies. She fell to someone who hadn't had powers that matched her own, but was up to the challenge physically.

Then, she felt something else. Something cold and, at the same time, warm. Something different.

Something _wet._

Her eyes slowly opened, revealing a very blurred sight that gradually returned to sharpen again, revealing it's colors and textures in their exact order. Textures of dark flesh everywhere, in walls and ceiling. She felt a wet sensation, like if she was in water, from her neck to below. She could feel her head rested in some support, also made of flesh.

Kerrigan, a few days ago, could not recognize what this place was, but now, she knew she was 'home', at the Leviathan, safe and resting. But how she was still alive, even after what Penny's gun did to her, she couldn't know. She was still breathing weakly, her audition slowly recovering. Still, the wet feeling of the water still touched her.

That's when she looked below and noticed she wasn't in water, but in a transparent green liquid. One she couldn't recognize and yet she was too familiar with. Her eyes widened as her body found new strength to move, attempting to back off and leave the green pool on that chamber. She dragged herself backwards, by the edge of the pool, as her body and environment suit, seemingly intact, appeared out of the pool. As she looked at her body, she noticed that there had been no changes out of order at all. No spikes, no tentacles, no Zerg features in her body at all. She felt relieved. In fact, she felt no pain nor tire from her previous efforts. It seemed like if she was instantly ready for another fight.

"What the hell...", Kerrigan wondered, as she looked at the pool besides her.

"That's about the same question I have.", Kerrigan heard a voice from behind. She then turned to see Izsha and Abathur behind her, watching her from a distance. Abathur didn't seem to have changed his expression since she first saw him, but Izsha was simply staring at her with a stern face, two of her tentacles crossed like arms, looking like if she wanted an explanation.

"For three hours I've been looking for you, and you weren't _anywhere_.", Izsha said, deadpan. "You weren't in the battlefield, you weren't in the Hive Cluster, you weren't even in the slightest cave entrance we could find. That's when I discover you were in a chamber almost impossible to reach, down and wounded."

"Well, if you'll let me explain...", Kerrigan started, weakily and dumbstruck.

"You don't have to.", Izsha replied. "I'm just curious as to whom the legs remaining of the person you killed belonged."

Kerrigan closed her eyes and sighed in relief, knowing she wouldn't have to explain it bit by bit to Izsha.

"Some idiot named Penny.", Kerrigan answered, getting on her feet. "I could've took care of him, but he was too fast, especially with those jet packs of his. He didn't give the smallest quarter."

"A _Reaper_?", Izsha asked, frowning her forehead. "You sure know how to pick trouble..."

"Yeah, that's how he called his men.", Kerrigan answered.

"That's how all of those men, here and there, in those jet packs, are called.", Izsha explained. "Dominion hit-and-run troopers and skirmishers. They're very vicious, very violent and very fast. You got lucky."

"Yeah, taking it on the matter, I thought I was done for.", Kerrigan replied. "After that shot I figured I'd be gone in twenty minutes tops. How the hell I managed to live that longer?"

"Your regenerative capabilities as a part Zerg are very limited, but not non-existent, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "Still, this fraction only inhibited additional damage to your biological system. Had you not been retrieved in time, or if you suffered additional damage, you could not be restored."

"Thanks to know.", Kerrigan said. "What of the bullet and what it's done?"

"See it yourself.", Izsha answered.

Kerrigan then looked below, to her belly, where she was shot. She put her hands around it, touching the location of the wound and stretching it to allow a better view, seeing only a hole in her environment suit, the only thing that could not be 'fixed'. Other than this, her belly seemed apparently fine, the skin pigmentation seemingly the same as the rest of her body, devoid of any pain or scars or any marks of newborn skin. It didn't even seem like if she was hit, at all.

"Wow.", Kerrigan commented, deadpan.

"Don't be full of yourself, Kerrigan, you nearly got killed out there.", Izsha said. "Besides, even though you can now regenerate, you'll still want to avoid getting another shot like that."

"_Now I can regenerate_?", Kerrigan asked, looking at Izsha.

"Izsha requested me to perform the augmentation, my Queen, all while not altering your current physical state or appearance.", Abathur answered. "She said it was necessary."

"Enough, Abathur.", Izsha said. "Now, if you'll give me and Kerrigan a minute..."

With this, Abathur then turned, curving a bit in reference, as he began to leave the chamber. Izsha approached Kerrigan.

"Are you okay?", Izsha asked.

"I think I'll manage.", Kerrigan answered. "Did we win, by the way?"

"We did.", Izsha answered. "But I'm more concerned with you."

"Funny, I didn't think you cared about me.", Kerrigan replied.

"You're my ticket to a better life, Kerrigan.", Izsha commented. "I'm just protecting my investment. Well, since we did very well today, we can delay a day or two until you can recover. If you want that, of course."

Kerrigan only paused for a moment.

"No, I think I'm ready for the next round.", Kerrigan said, looking then at the pool she was at. "What's with the bathtub deal, anyways?"

"It's a Regeneration Chamber.", Izsha answered. "Sick bay, so to say. It only regenerates Zerg organisms, however, or those with at least a minimum of Zerg genetic code. We use those to tend to survivors on the field."

"I thought with you, having your numbers and anything, would consider even the survivors expendable.", Kerrigan commented.

"Some things are just _too hard_ to get back.", Izsha said. "Better preventing it than remedy it, don't you agree?"

"Point taken.", Kerrigan said. "By the way, what of the lessons themselves? In that cave? How did I go?"

"Honestly?", Izsha shrugged her forehead, staring at her. "Not bad. A little rough around the edges, but not lacking. Not lacking at all. Even so, you'll need to learn more if you hope to lead the Swarm again."

Kerrigan let out a small sigh.

"Well, I'm not sure if I want to keep on going, Izsha.", Kerrigan said.

Izsha simply looked at her strangely, not understanding Kerrigan.

"_What?_", Izsha asked. "Why?"

Kerrigan simply closed her eyes.

"It's difficult to explain.", she said.

"Is it about that stupid promise to Raynor or something else?", Izsha asked.

"Something happened in that cave, Izsha.", Kerrigan answered. "I don't know what it is. All I knew was that one moment I was myself, and then another, I was someone else. This someone else, this woman commanding those Zerg, seemed too confident, too self-assured, too controlled, it was everything, but it wasn't me."

Izsha simply stared at her.

"By what you defined, it could be your command self.", Izsha answered.

"_Command self_?", Kerrigan asked.

"It's a term Abathur uses to define what happened to you.", Izsha answered. "You can get more explanations from him, if you want. One advice I'd give you, though, is when this opportunity appears again, let it run the errand."

"Simply let it take control?", Kerrigan asked, a bit nervous. "Just like that?"

"It can save your life.", Izsha said.

"How can you be sure?", Kerrigan asked.

"It did with me.", Izsha answered.

* * *

**PLANET HAVEN, SANCTUARY COLONY  
SURFACE**

Amongst the many worlds of the Koprulu Sector, all with their colors and pristine, or barren, or harsh conditions to living, practically many amongst the Terrans could easy and safely declare Haven was a paradise earned. A blue sky with a fresh, pure air, smelling of leaves and water, with friendly clouds and a forgiving sunlight that illuminated the lush green landscape below. Trees and mountains extended in serenity with the tall grass. Birds of exotic colors flew over the sky in harmony of this world who wasn't touched or scarred by war, but once. But then, there was only that confrontation between the defenders of the refugees whom settled into this place, looking for a future away from the horrors of war, and those whom sought to cleanse the refugees of the virulent infestation by fire.

The landscape, however, was filled by things that were not natural of that place. Constructs of metal and other materials. By and amongst those constructs, Terran colonists walked around and performed their work, on the long road that was building their new home and rebuilding their lives, whom were lost with the Zerg invasion of their worlds. Agria, Pridewater, Brontes IV... Fringe worlds, all at the proximity of Zerg or Protoss-occupied systems. Worlds whom were the first to be struck. And were the first to be abandoned by the Dominion they trusted when the Zerg invaded, in full force. But there they were, the men, women and children of those lost worlds, all being capable to restart in peace and safety, thanks to the actions of brave men and women they put their hopes on.

Men and women that orbited a single Battlecruiser, hovering above the colony. A Battlecruiser Ariel Hanson had been keeping eyes on, with a sad expression, as she could see his ship, but she wouldn't be seeing him. Her savior. Her friend. The one person she wished something better the most, as he most deserved it. Neither in the cruiser, nor in the three Dropships that slowly came out of one of the hangar bays, and started their slow, gradual descent to one of the landing platforms of the colony.

Ariel then started her walk through the small, but progressing colony that was the main hub of refugee concentration in Haven. The Sanctuary colony already had temporary shelter huts constructed for housing people from rain and other environmental hazards, as well as very large storage domes for food, drinkable water and other supplies. One dome, however, stood out from the rest, as it lied upon a military-grade base, with landing gear as well as rocket jets facing below and backwards, allowing this hub to lock down, lift off and relocate mid-air to another safe location. This dome housed an onboard laboratory, the main workplace for Ariel, as well as her home, living in one of the compact living quarters, as she never was a woman of luxuries. Other than a simple bed, a desk where she usually rests her research notes and a wardrobe, she only had a small collection of books in which she usually read one or two hours prior to her sleep. A habit she inherited from her mother, Talise Cogan, whom she only came to know by name, as she remained behind on Tarsonis for her work as a scientist. Her father, Bernard Hanson, terraformer and original founder of the Agria Colony, was not so much interested in science like his daughter and wife were, but he didn't stop Ariel from leaving Agria to learn biology at the Tarsonis University, either.

Ariel then arrived at the small, but capable landing platform, a basic elevated square with a ramp and support. On it, a black Dropship, bearing the mark of the Raynor's Raiders, had touched the metal surface of the platform and opened it's cargo hold. Inside, a number of people in light gray coats, men and women, started stepping out of the landed vessel, accompanied by men in CMC-300 battle suits, although those were of a very different and apparently futuristic design then the usual ones she's seen.

"So, these are the people you told about.", Ariel heard a voice besides her. The voice belonged to a bald African-American person in his forties, wearing standard mining issue clothing. "Yeah, they don't really seem like the hurting type."

Ariel let out a sigh.

"Yes, Aaron, they are.", she said, looking at the person. "I'm just sorry I had to ask you and your friends to make room at your homes for some of them."

"They are with the Raiders, miss Hanson, and the Raiders helped us when no one else did.", Aaron replied. "You ask me, it's about time we got to repay the favor."

Ariel then looked back at the Dropship to see the people she wanted to see coming down from that cargo bay as well, followed by another group, this time ship crew members and mechanics, whom began to unload the onboard crates. They were three, both unarmed, two of them wearing gray coats. These two persons seemed to share the short black hair cut, but the age and expressions differed them heavily. The younger one seemed to have more aggressive traits, although those were more under control at the moment, while the other seemed quite reserved and quiet. The third person wore a black suit, and his face to her was familiar. He was the second-in-command of the one she came to know. Matt Horner.

"Ariel.", Horner said as he approached her and Aaron.

"Horner.", Ariel said in response. "Are those the people?"

"Some of them, at least.", Horner answered. "I'd like you to meet Proctor Stratton, Chief of Medicine of the facility we were, and his assistant, Nick Braxton."

"Please, _former_-Chief, Captain Horner.", Stratton said, shaking hands with Ariel. "I'm actually surprised to see the woman behind the work on the Trabilla Flower before me."

"So you actually read it, mister Stratton?", Ariel asked.

"I must confess, even for a work from an eleven-year old girl, that was quite unparalleled.", Stratton said. "The level of details on the mutagenic effects alone are worth a read, even though a quick one."

"Much appreciated.", Ariel said. "So, what do you think of this place?"

Braxton himself had been taking a look around the place.

"Not bad.", Braxton said. "Cozy at best. I think we'll survive it."

"Enough, Braxton.", Stratton said. "This world by itself is pretty impressive. You have made a nice pick, I must say."

"Haven is relatively far from the threat of the Zerg invasion in the sector.", Aaron said. "This makes the planet the safest to settle. Unfortunately, it's also the closest from Protoss space, and we already have had some trouble with them previously."

"_Protoss_?", Stratton asked. "Quite curious in itself, we have tried to come in contact with them for years."

"Yes, well, Stratton, those people have had entered in contact with Protoss, but not in a positive way.", Horner said. "Many of those people in this colony are survivors of the massive infestation that took place in Meinhoff months ago. The Protoss take these matters too seriously for anyone's taste, hence the first conflict that took place here."

"Fortunately, tensions had already calmed, despite the fact they positioned an outpost to the south.", Ariel said.

"_What_!?", Horner exclaimed, widening his eyes. "I thought we drove them away after they lost the Purifier!"

"They came two days after you departed the system.", Aaron explained. "They firstly came in demanding a conference with us. Those came under orders from their bosses to set up an outpost to monitor infestation levels and act in the case of outbreak."

"We've been keeping negotiations with them to reduce the number of times they send their machines to make periodic biological scans.", Ariel said. "But these Protoss are short-tempered, _itching_ for a chance to assault the colony. They must be the people that were with Selendis when she came here."

"Selendis?", Stratton asked. "That's the name of the commander of the Protoss here?"

"She's the High Executor for the Golden Armada.", Horner asked. "But she only brought a fraction of her fleet here to 'cleanse' the infestation. She was counting on us to take the mission in her stead and burn every infested person to the ground. She didn't expect us to turn on her to aid Doctor Hanson's research."

Ariel smirked at how Horner could remember the events of that day. How, after days of no response from the settlers whom just escaped the infestation of Meinhoff, provoked by the Zerg, and settled on Haven at the same time she worked on the Hyperion for a 'cure', a means to counter the efforts of the infestation, the Raiders arrived on Haven to find a Protoss fleet orbiting the planet, and immediately contacted the alien newcomers. However, while Selendis attempted to convince Raynor, whom led the Raiders at the time, to incinerate all those confirmed or suspect of infestation, Ariel wanted more time to work on the cure. With her experience of eons of fighting Zerg since the invasion of Aiur, Selendis knew a cure to Zerg infestation was absurd and impossible, and knew Raynor would agree.

Yet, it was in vain, as Raynor decided to stand and fight in the stead of the colonists. In response, the Protoss summoned one of their feared instruments of war, a modified Mothership known as the Purifier, to incinerate the colonies. Yet, the Protoss have dared to underestimate Raynor's determination and capacity to defend the colonists, and thus destroyed the Purifier, forcing the retreat of Selendis. That would be marked by the colonists of Haven as the greatest contribution Raynor had ever delivered to their community, and a deep admiration and respect for his group, that aided them when the Dominion didn't.

"Even so, their decision to make an outpost is unnecessary.", Horner said, worried. "There is nothing to actually fear, if the cure is working."

"The Protoss don't think that way.", Aaron said. "As Ariel said, they really don't mess around."

"Perhaps if we talked to them, we could convince them to leave.", Horner said.

"I don't think that's a decent idea.", Aaron replied. "These guys are already angry that we're keeping infested in quarantine for treatment. Visiting them may spark them to a fight."

"We're their friends, I don't see a reason why they'd want to fight us.", Horner said.

"Well, after you destroyed the Purifier, Jim's name hasn't been spoken well amongst them.", Ariel said. "But I'll see if we can convince them to allow a visit with you."

"If you would not mind, I would like to join mister Horner on the visit.", Stratton said.

"Absolutely no!", censored Horner. "I'm not risking lives on this!"

"The Umojan Protectorate has been for eons attempting to contact the Protoss.", Stratton said. "They're entitled to have a representative in such a conversation."

"It's not politics we're dealing about here, Stratton, this concerns the people of this place.", Horner said, facing him. "I'll go with a small escort and that does it. You'll have your chance to meet the Protoss if you want, but it'll be in a very later date."

"I also agree.", Ariel said. "Mister Stratton, I must insist you remain on the colony, where it is safe."

Stratton only let out a sigh.

"Very well.", he said, resigning. "In the meantime, then, I and my personnel will attempt to resume our work. Do you have some place where we can work and not bother you much?"

"Unfortunately, no, but we can assure a proper workplace for you within the next few days.", Ariel answered.

"Well, there is no need to, miss Hanson, we do not plan to stay longer than needed.", Stratton said. "Once I have established contact with Umoja, the transports should be arriving within a maximum of four days. Now, if you'll please introduce us to our temporary accommodation?"

"Of course, mister Stratton.", Ariel said. "If you will please follow me..."

With this said, Ariel, Stratton and Braxton then began to step forward, leaving Horner and Aaron on their own.

"My sympathies, by the way, mister Horner.", Aaron started. "Raynor was a very good man. Pity they don't make those anymore."

"Appreciated.", Horner said.

"Listen.", Aaron called. "If you'll want help concerning those Protoss, if things get too dicey, I mean, I have a group of men whom can help out."

"I don't think that's necessary.", Horner said.

"It might be.", Aaron replied. "Call me if you'll need them."

Aaron then started to walk away, leaving Horner to his own thoughts.

"_Great_.", Horner heard a male voice behind him. "So the Protoss haven't given up on their idea to burn those people."

"Seems so, White.", Horner said, turning around to see a person inside a blue clad CMC-300 armor, with the logo of the Raynor's Raiders sprayed on his chest. This person had a gruff, battle weary appearance on his forty-six years of field combat, with black eyes and pale white skin. One thing that could easily identify him, though, was the optical prosthetic on his left eye, lost during the first Zerg battle of Mar Sara, which he was one whom defended the evacuation site until the Sons of Korhal arrived.

"Those civvies might cause us trouble with their helping of theirs.", Frost White said. "Want me to keep an eye on them?"

"I'd lay low for now, Sergeant.", Horner answered.

"Okay, then.", White said. "But you'll want to keep an eye on our Prince buddy by the crates. God knows the size of the fireplace they'll shove him in if they catch him..."

Horner's eyes widened in surprise and upset as he then turned to the stack of crates those mechanics behind were unloading. Amongst those people that were opening the crates and emptying their contents, a single person had been watching the whole time. He turned his head to face Horner.

Horner's face turned to an angry one when he saw Valerian Mengsk, despite the oil stain on his cheek and the messed up hair, looking at him. Valerian then turned around to continue the supposed 'hard' work with the crates.

He'd need to talk to him later.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

The makeshift metal bridge, made of simple, square-shaped metal plates, was unreliable at the time, but it was enough for those men and women in battle suits to cross the large hole before them. Also, since this was a temporary assignment, the mission to simply find out what happened to the assault team and return to base, the bridge suited well the purpose.

Everywhere Sedlex looked over the cave, he could see everything. He could see the dark rock and dirt of the cavern walls, ceiling and floor. He could see crimsom red crystals above, spikes of volcanic rock, and gaps where streams of lava doubtlessly ran deep below. He could see enormous holes in the walls and in some places in the floor, some of them with the same J-shaped curve that hole they crossed had.

He could also see the enormous tapestry of ripped corpses and carcasses before him on the floor. The air reeked of death and decay, as the combined smell of dead tissues, spent napalm and acid waste was enough to almost make some of those brave soldiers in the cave let out their processed breakfast.

"Sweet mother of God...", a Marine spoke behind Sedlex, also viewing the scene before him.

"Field record update.", Sedlex said, doubtlessly recording. "Within initial waypoint, base camp. Human parts of lost personnel encountered, confirmed KIA. Initial assessment is that Colonel Richter's assignment was a failure. Multiple Zerg carcasses encountered, Zerglings, Hydralisks and Roaches. Large confrontation occurred. Multiple large-sized holes in floor and walls, all curved. Possible use of Nydus Worms to surround and block exit route for battle group. Probable estimate that the Zerg were waiting for this group to arrive. Theory further supported by lack of communications, probably from the geography of the cavern disrupting them. Additional investigation required. Advancing slowly, beginning ID dogtag collection."

Sedlex then turned around to the troops behind him.

"Get the dogtags, don't go further in. The Zerg might still be there. Just get the dogtags and let's get outta here, then.", Sedlex ordered.

* * *

**DYLARIAN SHIPYARDS, HIGH ORBIT OVER DYLAR IV**

"Attention, crew members of the Battlecruiser _Red Arrow_, ship departure is scheduled within forty-five minutes. Access granted at Drydock Alpha Four. Thirty minute early presence is required, so please finish or cease current matters and embark immediately.", a male voice echoed across the entire Southern Hub of the Dylarian Shipyards.

The gigantic hall and commotion of the main area greatly reminded an airport, despite the fact there were more military walking around then civilians. Metal could be seen in the walls, floor and ceiling everywhere, lights provided by rows of fluorescent bulbs above. Other lights could be seen in advertisement banners and holographs. Seats could be seen in determined areas close by the male and female general bathrooms, occupied by crew members and soldiers outside their suits, as some waited for their time to embark their respective vessels. Shops and a food court could also be seen in some afar area and in the floor and halls above, to be used for the people whom were on shore leave. Amidst the ambiance, stood a balcony arc above whose only access could be performed in a stair by a corner below, locked by a gate with a simple guard, wearing no armor but a simple bulletproof vest and a holstered pistol. That was a security and monitoring station, meant to keep an eye out for some trouble brewing in the area they're supposed to caretake, generally from some brawl between Marines and pilot jocks or some thief whom thinks they can be smarter than the people within the station.

That was the scenario by which Lilith Daniels and Feud Thorne walked across, as they waited their new ship to be made available. As they passed by a hall, they could see the plaques above the stores doubtlessly meant for civilians, despite there were Dominion soldiers and crew members inside them. The plaques generally read NEWS SHACK - KEEPING YOU UP-TO-DATE, FRED & BARNEY'S ANTIQUITIES, EASYMED - PHARMACY & DRUGSTORE, GIGAS' NETHOUSE, TAFFER'S LIQUOR STAND, among others. The corridor far forward led to a pressurized tram station that transported men and women like cattle to other platforms, where other Hubs lied.

"_What a lost taste_.", Lilith said, as she and Thorne walked by a small store, with two men sit on a chair, clearly soldiers, as automated machinery used lasers on their back and shoulders in clear view of the people outside. The plaque above read SKINPRINT - TATTOO SHOP. "I've never seen any fun at all in this."

"Some habits die hard amongst Terrans, Captain.", Thorne replied.

"What of our new ship?", Lilith asked. "Have you already arranged the paperwork?"

"Second thing in the morning, the first was taking the shower.", Thorne answered. "It's called the _Vengeance_, Minotaur-Class, Drydock Alpha Eight. They're finishing refitting weapons and turret batteries. We'll be cleared for leave within five hours."

"Call in the crew, then.", Lilith ordered. "Have them suit up and get ready for action."

"Will do.", Thorne said. "Where do we go first?"

"According to our new acquaintance, Captain DeForrest, we'll be starting by the worlds on the edge of the Dominion-Zerg border.", Lilith answered. "We'll begin with Pridewater and Brontes IV."

"Where next, then?", Thorne asked.

"The Saras.", Lilith answered.

* * *

On another part of the hub...

"As a reminder to all personnel in this station, it's mandatory you safe your weapons and deliver them on the entrance checkpoint. Also, other devices such as Stim Packs, smoke grenades, optical flares and cloaking devices are considered not authorized within any areas of the Shipyard and must be delivered. Refusal to comply or resisting orders will result in an automatic seventy-two hour detention until retrieval by proper authorities.", the PA boomed again as she walked across that corridor.

It was a bit more colder than the usual for Nova Terra to walk on the path that led to Hangar 9-C. Either it was the size of the station or the wind current coming from the air conditioning system she just passed by moments ago. Still, the cold was enough to send a shiver through her spine from her environment suit. A feeling she generally hated.

The door before her then slid open, to reveal the hangar before her, a large one riddled with crates on the floor. People walked across it, by those stacks, as well as landed ships whom were under refit and repair as well. Nova could see one landed Viking, in it's mechanoid Assault Mode, under repair by two, maybe three mechanics using welders to pull off battle damage and reinforce armor. On the wall, where she could see, was an elevated repair and boarding platform, meant for the Y-shaped Wraith, whom was docked, held by servo arms and being tended by an automated welder arm. On it's right side, stood an elevator meant to lifting people and cargo to the balcony connecting both the elevator and platform.

Nova then saw her intended sight as she looked left, by the middle of the hangar. Her ship. A simple Dominion Dropship, painted with the standard white and red colors, like any other, but the mission she'd embark to would ensure it would be this way, to avoid attracting too much attention. This was practically the way things were when one was a Ghost working for the Dominion. The cargo bay was open with some people finishing loading the contents within it, basically crates with random materials to also avoid getting unwanted attention. She then walked towards the ship, embarking it by entering through the doors of the cargo bay.

"Ma'am.", a person ahead of Nova, wearing a mechanic monkey suit but no head, exposing his Caucasian, bald head, called her. "Everything is almost loaded. Just wait five more minutes and then you're cleared to begin take-off procedures."

"Seems like enough crates for me, young men.", Nova said, coldly. "Clear out, you and your men. Now."

"Will do.", the man said, walking besides her to leave. "Alright people, ship leaves now, clear off! Forget the rest, just clear off now!"

Looking a bit back, to ensure people have indeed left the place, Nova then started to walk forward to that access elevator she knew it'd lead to the cockpit. She then pressed the button and the elevator began it's slow crawl upwards to the pilot section of the Dropship. As it arrived at the pilot cabin, she's seen the traditional cockpit, side bed and pilot chair, everything apparently tidy. She sit on the chair and rocked it forward as the monitors automatically activated, displaying their systems in the usual cyan-blue color. She turned the onboard key piece and pressed two buttons on the panel, flipping three switches to, starting up the vessel.

"System activated.", the monotone, robotic female voice said, coming from the onboard computer.

"Open communications, Shipyard Docking Control.", Nova ordered.

"Connecting...", the computer's voice said. "Channel open."

"Dock Control, this is Dropship _Van Halen_, Hangar 9-C, Southern Hub.", Nova said. "Requesting clearance for take-off. Respond, over."

"_Van Halen, this is Control._", a male voice came from the cockpit radio. "_Processing clearance now. Please deliver IFF for confirmation._"

"Roger, beginning IFF transfer.", Nova said as she pressed a button in the cockpit panel. One of the monitors then switched to a decoding screen, numbers rapidly and randomly running across columns as data was being streamed via transmission to the Shipyard's control tower.

"_Van Halen, your IFF is cleared, you take-off is authorized._", the male voice from Control said.

"Affirmative, starting engines.", Nova then flipped a switch in the panel, in which then rocket engines were heard booming and the alerts for landing gear on and the cargo bay open appeared on one of the monitors. She then pressed two buttons and both alerts went off. She then put her hands on an onboard rudder, that appeared as the ship lifted itself to the ground, and began to drive it to the hangar exit, covered by an energy screen.

"Entering deep space.", the computer said, as the Dropship had come closer to the hangar. "Pressure levels normal."

The Dropship had then crossed the energy screen, doubtlessly meant to only maintain breathable air, gravity and pressure inside the Shipyard, as the vessel itself began to float harmlessly into the starry void.

"Artificial gravity generator activated.", the computer said. "All systems normal. Hull integrity at one-hundred percent."

"Activate auto-pilot.", Nova said. "Set destination to planet Tyrador IX, standard velocity."

"Tyrador IX, ninth planet of the Tyrador System, official core world, Terran Dominion.", the computer described. "Confirm destination."

"Confirmed.", Nova said, as a beeping sound was heard and the onboard rudder than folded itself and automatically retreated to below the cockpit panel.

"Auto-pilot engaged.", the computer said. Nova then proceeded to pick the file she was carrying all along and opened it, showing pictures of an installation as well as data concerning the target. Attached to the file was a small, compact data disk. She then picked the disc and inserted it on the reader in the panel.

"Accessing...", the computer said. "Terran Dominion data file. Ghost Program. Top Secret. Owner authorization require."

"November Terra, operative number _X41822N_.", Nova answered. "Access transmission."

"Processing...", the computer said. "Accepted. Stand by for transmission..."

As Nova then rested on the chair, a voice then began speak out from the monitors. The voice of her employer.

'_Agent Terra. In spite of current events and the aftermath of the previous operation, regardless if it was successful or not, you will still remain active in the Program. You still remain my most useful asset, and it's better to not simply discard you off. However, until next important assignments appear, you will continue with your mission to hunt and detain, or, if necessary, terminate any Spectres whom are not under the control of the Dominion._'

'_The assignment contained within this disc is related to your mission. It will take you to planet Tyrador IX, one of our primary core worlds. Recently, our counter-intelligence branch has come upon something related to the nature of the failed Project Shadowblade. Sightings of confirmed escapees from the breakout of New Folsom weeks ago were confirmed on the streets of Tyrador's city of New Canaan. This is further assisted by evidence of materials related to Jorium and Terrazine caught after a police drugs bust two days ago, an event provoked by a notorious gang that was summarily executed. We believe this to be another attempt by our fellow criminal interest, Gabriel Tosh, to establish a second Spectre creation site. Local police forensics have not encountered any evidence thus far, but intelligence efforts in transaction tracks have picked small, but periodic shipments signed by a certain Lionel Brahe, a biology professor at New Canaan Science Academy. The professor's expertise in biology alone is enough to believe he may be deeply involved in the Spectre matter._'

'_Therefore, your assignment will be to locate and, when encountered, neutralize the believed operations related to the Spectres. It is recommended you follow Professor Brahe, he may or may not be the best lead to the core of the operation. Once you have encountered the operation site, you will destroy the primary production facilities and detain or neutralize any involved personnel. However, intelligence believes there is a possibility Tosh himself may be present in this second operation. If so, do not eliminate him. Return him alive, so our mind scan efforts may determine the extent of his operations. As for the others, the judgment to preserve their lives or not is entirely in your hands. A team has already been assembled at that location, led by operative Tremm, they will assist you in your assignment._'

'_The nature of this information alone issues the destruction of the disc and it's contents. Thus, upon the completion of this message, a program installed within the disc will force the computer within to format it. Once the disk is returned, destroy it to ensure no recovery attempts are performed. And, Agent... I'd like to remind you this operation is of the utmost importance to Dominion security. Failing this assignment... will not be welcomed. End message._'

"Transmission ended.", the computer said, before a series of beeps sounded afterwards. "Command override. Formatting disk. Stand by..."

Six seconds after, the disk then came out of the reader. Nova proceeded to pick it up and then, with some strength applied, broke the disc in half. She then returned to the chair and closed her eyes shut.

The trip would be long.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACK ROCK TWINS, CHAR**

The fleshy corridors were warmer then the last time she walked through them. Must have been the heat of that infernal rock the creature was being forced to absorb, despite the fact the creature itself made no objections. Kerrigan then put her hand where that goddamned pistol round had ripped through, still a bit worried about her condition. She wanted to trust Izsha and the new regenerative gift that was given to her, but, deep down somewhere, she was still a bit worried. Not only that there might still be some trauma or collateral effects from the shot, but of everything that happened to her. From that lightning she discovered she could fire to her numb state, the 'command self' that Kerrigan spoke of in the cave.

She was worried she was now returning to the level she was told about. She was worried she was going back as the Queen of Blades, and no excuse seemed to soothe the feeling. Neither the fact she had to avenge Raynor and bring down Mengsk or that the Dominion on that planet sought that fight first. She used her powers deliberately, even those she didn't came to know about, against other Terran beings, even if some of those were completely abusive people, like Penny was. She commanded Zerg and spared no quarter against those soldiers in the cave, be it herself or that other one.

She didn't want that. Yet, she was _doing it_. She was being forced to. The greatest problem was getting people not on her side to listen her side of the story.

Her thoughts and worries were suddenly put aside as she's seen a line of Drones come from an intersection and appear in front of her. These Drones would naturally be ignored, as she came to know their trajectories were quite common and always working.

What caught her attention were the _corpses_ they carried. Terran corpses in red clad CMC-300 armor.

'_What the?_', Kerrigan thought, looking at the Drones ferrying those dead people in a corridor she was familiar with.

That corridor led her to the destination she wanted.

'_Why are those going to Abathur?_', Kerrigan thought, becoming angry and beginning to follow the Drones to the Evolution Pit. '_What the hell is he up to?_'

As she arrived at the Evolution Pit, the fleshy doors were open, allowing Kerrigan to see from afar the small, but visible pile of Marine corpses, forming a mound. The Drones seemed to form a line and await, as one at a turn delivered it's corpse to Abathur, whom then did something with the corpse and cleared the Drone to take it deep into the chamber.

Kerrigan knew what this meant. They were suffering a fate worse than death. They were being _infested_.

She then entered the chamber itself, heading towards Abathur. The creature took notice of her.

"My Queen?", Abathur asked.

"What do you think you're doing?", Kerrigan asked, deadpan and crossing her arms.

"My function.", Abathur answered.

"_Did I ever ask you to infest those people_?", Kerrigan asked back, angry and gesturing at the line of Drones between them.

"Izsha requested so.", Abathur said. "She believes infesting those Terrans may be an useful asset."

"But I don't believe so.", Kerrigan said. "It's not enough that died in battle? Now you want to infest them and make them live a bigger torture?"

"You... disapprove of the infestation of Terrans?", Abathur asked. "Even deceased ones?"

"That's not how I work, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, angry. "If you're worried, you let me have my way with Izsha, but right now I want you to cease the infestations and dispose the bodies exactly where they were found!"

"With all respect, my Queen, I must object.", Abathur said.

"_Object_?", Kerrigan asked, frowning her forehead. "On something you know it's morally wrong?"

"Morality is not and must _never_ be an issue to the Swarm.", Abathur answered. "The primary concern is functionality, now and always. The Swarm has always operated in this form, my Queen, even prior to your ascension, years ago. In addition, with the current limitation of our forces, it would ill wise to reject the opportunity so open. Also, deceased Terrans are not prone to emotional breakdowns and other features that disturb our infested living Terrans."

"You may see tools in them, Abathur, but I'm seeing people whom deserve something better than this.", Kerrigan said.

"I do not understand, my Queen.", Abathur said. "These Terrans were your enemies. They tried to permanently neutralize you."

"They _might_ have been enemies and they _might_ have tried to kill me, but they're still people, Abathur.", Kerrigan said. "People whom were only following orders."

"They can still follow orders, if allowed.", Abathur said. "Even in death, they can still perform. Perform for the Swarm."

"Like what?", Kerrigan asked. "_Expendable zombies_?"

"This word is unknown to me.", Abathur said.

"Puppets, I mean.", Kerrigan asked.

"The role may depend on your specifications, if you desire.", Abathur said. "If you wish so, they do not need to fight or be expended at combat."

"And what of other options?", Kerrigan asked. "Let the Dominion personnel find them and give them a proper burial? Have you _even_ considered that?"

"This would be wasting potential resources, my Queen, something that is not advisable when commanding the Swarm.", Abathur said. "As Terrans, they cannot return, their potential and natural life are spent. With the infestation process, however, their potential can be renewed and placed to a better use."

"And have them die _again_, on the battlefield?", Kerrigan asked.

"Death is an inevitability, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "Even for Zerg. However, in time of crisis and conflict, everything is welcome and deemed _necessary_. The infestation of Terrans may be morally inconvenient for you, my Queen, but it is necessary, as it may assist us in the confrontations ahead. As they are deceased, they can become entirely malleable, and improved, if given time, allowing them to become capable warriors in your service. They can perform better, if allowed to proceed, and given survival priorities."

Kerrigan simply stared at him, considering what he said.

"Do you still persist on your decision to reject infestation, my Queen?", Abathur asked.

Kerrigan still remained silent for a moment.

"You can infest dead soldiers, then?", Kerrigan asked. "They don't need to be alive?"

"A living organism was required cycles ago.", Abathur answered. "We have now improved the infestation process to reanimate fallen organisms."

"Then it'll be that way, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, pointing a finger at him. "Dead people only, and, being more strict, _soldiers_. If the person is still alive, is a civilian or if there's _any_ chance for them to escape alive, I don't want you infesting them."

"So you will restrict the infestation process to fallen Terran warriors?", Abathur asked.

"We call that rules, Abathur. That's how we're gonna work now.", Kerrigan said. "Either you follow that, or you don't infest Terrans at all. That's my deal, are those terms alright for you?"

Abathur remained silent for a moment, computing an answer.

"_Approvable._", Abathur said.

"It's settled then.", Kerrigan said, turning around to leave. "You can proceed now."

"As you desire, my Queen.", Abathur said.

As Kerrigan then walked to start and leave, she then turned around again, reminding she had to talk to him concerning his condition. She returned to Abathur.

"That reminds me, Abathur, there is something I wanted to ask you.", Kerrigan said.

"Elaborate, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"You're familiar with most strains in the Swarm, aren't you, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked.

"Yes.", Abathur answered.

"Then tell me something.", Kerrigan said. "During my time in the caves, when the Dominion appeared... I... I don't know how to explain, but somewhere along the line, while I was fighting them and commanding the Zerg, I feel if... If like my mind had shut down, gone in a numb or a fever state. Then, commanding those many Zerg seemed so... _normal_. So simple."

Abathur remained silent for a while, like if he was computing an answer.

"By your descriptions, it can be your command self who assumes control, in times of stress.", he answered.

"What is that?", Kerrigan asked.

"When you were designed as the Queen of Blades, you were designed as a member of the ruling caste, an Agent of the Overmind.", Abathur explained. "When a creature of the ruling caste is created, it is automatically issued a change of persona, which can trigger itself under a specific condition. This change passes to eliminating all and any traces of emotion, concentrating entirely on commanding the present forces and neutralizing all and any present threat."

"What if I wouldn't want that?", Kerrigan asked. "What if I don't want this... _thing_ taking control of my mind at every turn? Is there any way to fix it?"

"I am afraid it is not possible.", Abathur answered. "Besides, if I removed it, only danger could be increased: You could be emotionally compromised and hesitate when necessary to act."

"And you never thought this 'command self' of yours might _kill_ someone I don't want dead by mistake, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, crossing her arms again.

"It will only focus on those whom pose a potential or actual threat.", Abathur answered. "Who decides what is a threat and whatnot is entirely your decision."

"So that means I can control that?", Kerrigan asked.

"To one certain extent.", Abathur answered. "But it requires a complete control mastery of your mental condition. One that is currently frail as of now."

"Is it about that attempt of yours to infest me again?", Kerrigan asked.

"Not infestation, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "Evolution. Enhancement. Something that only benefits one as yourself."

"What if I don't want to benefit myself?", Kerrigan asked. "What if I still prefer to remain human?"

"Such decision is contradictory.", Abathur answered. "Any improvement to one's physical, psionic or psychological standards must be welcomed, given one's understanding of such improvements. To refuse such improvements in favor of moral or social concepts is to compromise one's potential and capacity."

"Yet, this refusal alone makes us different, Abathur.", Kerrigan said. "It's one of the things that makes me different from what I was. Something I'm willing to prove to others I've done nothing but malice, so far."

"Such struggle is difficult, my Queen.", Abathur said. "It may even be impossible without any improvements."

"But that's the point, Abathur.", Kerrigan replied. "If it weren't difficult, it wouldn't be resolving, and definitely not satisfying. That's why we Terrans managed to survive so long, even without your capacity to adapt or the advanced, more powerful things the Protoss have. _We like difficult_. It's that simple. So, thanks, but I'll still refuse your offer. I'll try to see if I can control this as myself."

"I would not recommend it, my Queen, but I will not interfere on your decision.", Abathur said. "Is this your only concern, my Queen, or is there something else?"

"Actually, there is.", Kerrigan answered. "Now this you'll find kind of funny. Moments before I passed out on that cave, I was trying to fight that Reaper, as you might have heard. But, seconds before, when the Reaper was about to finish my life... My right hand reacted strangely, because of the command self. I didn't understand at first, but then something came out of my right hand. It was _lightning,_ Abathur. Pure lightning, like those of storms, something I thought only the Protoss could do it. Can you explain this?"

"Interesting.", Abathur said, although his voicing continued to be a deadpan one. "I believed you were familiarized with this power."

"The Xel'Naga artifact might have had something to do with it.", Kerrigan said. "But how? _How_ can I fire lightning without _knowing_ I can do it?"

"This can be explained alone by your psionic potential.", Abathur explained. "Amongst you, Terrans, you may believe such psionic capability is impossible, but it is not. It is simply not unlocked, not concentrated, not refined. And yet, this lightning you can unleash is all but a fraction of your true psionic potential. Your command self, even though it was protecting you in self-defense, unlocked the necessary fraction to allow your body to unleash this lightning. Unfortunately, it seems, at the cost of your remaining physical and mental strength."

"And it will continue to be like this?", Kerrigan asked. "I'm able to shoot lightning, but it'll _exhaust_ me at every turn?"

"Unfortunately, yes.", Abathur said. "The concentration and physical capacity required exceeds those of Terran standards. Hence my former insistence in enhancing your capacity."

"Yeah, but how am I going to defend myself out there, then?", Kerrigan asked, dumbstruck. "Last time I remember, I lost my rifle."

"Then I am afraid I cannot assist you.", Abathur said.

"Not even a way other than infestation?", Kerrigan asked.

Abathur then paused, computing an answer.

"A solution may be possible, but I will require time and more information.", Abathur said. "I should initiate a research once I am done with the procedures with those Terrans."

"Fine by me.", Kerrigan said. "I'll talk to Izsha, see if we can delay a bit until you figure out something."

When she started to leave, however, something caught her mind. Something much like what she felt when she first saw him in that chamber. However, it was safe, this time, so she decided to take the risk.

"But still...", Kerrigan started, comtemplative. "I've never seen up close how is an infestation procedure. Mind if I keep a look on it?"

"If you desire so, my Queen.", Abathur said.

Kerrigan then changed her look to one of the Marines the Drone was carrying before Abathur. This Marine seemed riddled with some Needle spines, no doubt from a Hydralisk. Some blood leaked outside the red-clad armor, but it was already dry from time.

"Just out of curiosity, how much complex is this?", Kerrigan asked. "Infesting people?"

"The infestation process is the most extremely simple amongst Zerg.", Abathur said. "Only two stages are required for complete infestation: Injection and Gestation. Injection is the procedure I am performing."

As the Drone approached the corpse carried to Abathur, one of his limbs then moved upclose, like an earthly snake on the verge of striking it's opponent, looking for a soft spot to attack. On this limb's case, it was looking for live flesh to inject it's contents, as Kerrigan slightly suspected. However, the Marine's helmet visor was clearly closed, so the limb retreated a bit, just to open room for two others to move in and attach to the borders of the helmet visor, forcing it open then. Despite the strength required, Abathur did not strain or even growled at the effort. As the helmet had shown the seemingly intact face of the suit's wearer, a male Caucasian soldier in his mid-twenties, black eyes wide open in his death, the limb with the said contents then slowly moved in, searching for either a blood vein or an aorta.

The limb then forced itself into the skin, almost cutting it, and then quickly left it and retreated to Abathur's body. Kerrigan tried to look a bit closer, noticing the Marine's neck had a small cut letting out a small blood stream inside, but then the Drone began to quickly turn around and leave for deep into the egg-filled chamber. The marine, apparently, was now going to the 'gestation' stage of the infestation process, which, Kerrigan presumed, he was about to be shoved into a cocoon or an egg.

"So, this injection process, what do you exactly put in him?", Kerrigan asked.

"A very small sample of the Zerg hyper-evolutionary virus.", Abathur said. "This sample allows for regeneration and formation of a symbiont installed within the neural cortex of the host."

"This symbiont is how you control those Infested Terrans?", Kerrigan asked.

"The symbiont does not control.", Abathur answered. "It only communicates with the host, as it makes it more malleable to psionic commands."

"And gestation is where the person goes into an egg, I suppose?", Kerrigan asked.

"The infestation process through only the injection stage is extremely slow.", Abathur said. "Gestation within a cocoon accelerates regeneration and growth formation processes."

"And it's that simple?", Kerrigan asked. "You simply inject something into someone and then he or she goes into an egg?"

"Many factors prevent the infestation process from being simple, especially concerning deceased organisms.", Abathur answered. "Physical condition is the most important. Corpses without a cerebral cortex or several necessary limbs and organs, extremely damaged, after one month of decease or already infested, but fallen, will not reanimate. The more complete and recently deceased the corpse is, the more possible it is to reanimate and infest."

"I'll keep that in mind.", Kerrigan said. "And that is the only way you can infest someone?"

"Viral introduction is necessary, but injection is not the only option. The hyper-evolutionary virus can be altered according to needs.", Abathur said. "If necessary, the virus can become resistant, adaptable or even airborne. One such example of effective modification was the virus utilized in the mass infestation of planet Meinhoff. Infestation was made possible through contamination of Terran water supplies by microscopic spores."

"That's devious.", Kerrigan said. "_Whom had this idea_?"

"You have applied such solution, my Queen, at the beginning of the Zerg incursions into Terran space, months ago.", Abathur answered, plainly.

Kerrigan was then dumbstruck by the revelation she could do such a thing, without a flicker of remorse, if that's what she thought. She then preferred to ignore such thoughts and began to turn to leave, now definitely leaving Abathur to his business when she saw the next Marine the Drone brought in. The details in this Marine's armor, especially the two golden stars on his shoulders, were what got her attention.

"Curious.", Kerrigan said. "This one is different than the others. Who is that, Abathur?"

"I do not have identification of this subject.", Abathur answered. "It is irrelevant."

"Well, this one seemed important.", Kerrigan muttered. "Those golden stars must be a denoting of rank. Captain to forward, it seems..."

"Position is irrelevant as well, my Queen.", Abathur said. "All infested are equalized as warrior strains of the Swarm."

"Abathur, do me a favor, when you infest him, have him _stay_ on the Leviathan.", Kerrigan said. "I wanna talk to this one, he might have information about the Dominion we're fighting here."

"I must object, my Queen.", Abathur said. "Assimilated information immediately begins to be dissolved upon death. Though he may return as an infested Terran, this subject may not have the information you desire."

"Even so, I want to give a shot at him.", Kerrigan said. "Do it."

"As commanded, then.", Abathur said.

"I'll be leaving to the Nerve Center.", Kerrigan said, finally turning around. "Warn me when he's awake."

"Yes, my Queen.", Abathur said as Kerrigan then left the Evolution Pit, leaving the Zerg creature to his duty.

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, '_HARKONNEN_'**

There are generally three types of news that can alter the emotional state of a person. The first, obviously, is the good news, something that brings joy or hope for someone that otherwise would seemingly have none. The second was the bad news, that could alter a person's mood in a negative mood. The third, and more frightening than the bad news, is exactly the lack of news, where doubt riddles one's mind for hours on end. This doubt, if given time, becomes worry, to then become fear, anger, and a myriad of emotions that can compromise even the most controlled of persons.

This third type of news was what was disturbing Horace Warfield that very day on the Command Room of the POC. The very first day he'd go to work concerning those Zerg. And now, eighty-six men and women were lost on that day, in an operation that was supposed to go smoothly. A very bad number, even for one officer so experienced and used to sending men to their deaths as he. Many times, this made it difficult for him to sleep well on bad. He could still hear the screams. The screams of terror, anguish, anger and despair of men and women lost in combat, pleading him to find a way to deliver them back into the light and warm of life. Sometimes, he wished it was him doing the dying, not those people. He already had been through too much in life, fighting several wars for two governments, the latter succeeding the former and a revolution to take down that same former government. All to then find out the ideals he believed he was fighting for since the nuclear holocaust of Korhal were nothing but words. And lately, since that broadcast concerning the Psi Emitters, he's been growing more in disagreement with the person he once believed to be an idealistic rebel crusader, but he still had to follow him out of option: There wasn't another person, a _good_ person, fit enough to replace Emperor Mengsk and his iron first rule.

The only other good person he came to know was supposedly in Mengsk's custody, awaiting his turn to experience death, or already dead.

"Sir?", the British-accent voice of McGrudd called Warfield by his right side. Warfield turned around too see him, whom was carrying a file on his right arm. "Lieutenant Sedlex called back. Richter's team is done for, sir. He's brought the butcher's tally."

Warfield closed his eyes in regret, expecting this type of news to come.

"How many?", he asked.

"Casualties?", McGrudd asked. "Every last one of them. We have fifty-three confirmed KIA, thirty-one of which have no ID and no dogtags were found. But we also have twenty-nine MIA."

"_Twenty-nine missing?_", Warfield asked, fearing the worse, knowing what the math of missing in action and Zerg usually resulted in.

"And worse: Colonel Richter himself is on that list.", McGrudd said.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And another chapter finished. Curiously, compared to the others, this one was a bit quite _shorter_, despite the POVs. For those wondering about those who weren't mentioned, i.e. Lassara and Henderson and Keitel, those will come next chapter, which will cover the remainder needed prior to the next battle, the first ZvZ. Yes, Za'gara. Exactly.

This chapter practically settles down the remainder of the Umojan arc, as you won't be hearing from Stratton or Braxton for some time now, as they're now off the Hyperion. But also the Protoss outpost idea also settles for some character development between Valerian's men and the Raiders, something some people like **Ragnarok666** had suggested. This should also be a good cover prior to the third part of the Hyperion arc (Second, if the Protoss outpost weren't included.), so I guess we can go on smoothly. We also set the root beginning for Nova's arc, which would help fill a big hole in my story, which you'd come to understand in a very, VERY later date.

There'll be people who'll praise, some will criticize the quasi-philosophic debate on the Evolution Pit concerning infestation and morality, but I felt that was necessary for development of the protagonist. After all, it's with the human Kerrigan we're dealing with here, and she'd sure disagree with liberal infestation, unlike what happened in the first Skygeirr mission in the official game. I'm sure folks like you would understand.

Well... Nothing more to say. Comment, critique, rant, the works.

Until next week.


	13. Chapter XI - Names and Faces

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XI - NAMES AND FACES**

* * *

An eternal pitch black darkness surrounded about his every sight since that fateful minute in those caves. Since his said 'luck' had run out. He'd only known a great, enormous amount of pain back then. But then, seconds after punch after punch and claw after claw pierced through his trusted CMC-300 armor, he suddenly felt nothing. But then, he welcomed it. There was no escaping it, after all.

Clancy Richter had fallen in combat after being cornered in a dead end. At least he had died, unlike other unfortunate people who'd suffer a more terrible fate, should they be still alive. He'd not be a slave to those monsters and their ability to corrupt people into doing so. He'd die free. He _earned_ that freedom. He earned it fighting those wars against alien species and unruly factions like the Kel-Morian Combine. He earned his freedom fighting to the very death against those whom were the greatest threat to the common man.

Still, for a supposed afterlife of his, this is a bit just too dark and too silent. Like many people, with their names and faces, he often wondered he'd come into some other world, see a light in the end of a long tunnel or other things commonly told concerning what happens after death. Everything around him couldn't be seen or heard. There was no feeling of cold or warm whatsoever, and this too made him a bit disappointed with his life end.

'_What the hell..._', Richter thought. '_This is an afterlife!? There's practically nothing here! There's no light, no fellows with feather wings, no clouds, there's not even puddles of lava, black dirt or people with horns on their heads!? Unless this whole darkness... Is this Hell!?_'

"No.", said a deep, monotonous voice, echoing of a sudden in the darkness.

"What the?", Richter said, surprised. "Who's there?"

But then, it remained silent. There was no answer at all.

"Where am I?", Richter asked. "Am I in Hell?"

"No.", the voice answered.

"So this is Heaven?", Richter asked back. "Purgatory? Limbo?"

"No.", the voice replied.

"So where the hell am I!?", Richter asked, nervous. "What is going on here!?"

Yet, it was silence again, and Richter couldn't get his answer.

"Hello!?", Richter asked, angry. "_Are you even going to answer me!?_"

"Yes.", the voice answered back.

"Then what the hell is going on!?", Richter asked back. "What sick sort of post-mortem torture is this?"

"Irrelevant.", the voice answered.

"What do you mean, _irrelevant_?", Richter answered. "I'm dead, I _deserve_ to get an answer out of all this sick joke!"

"You are not dead.", the voice answered. "Not yet."

"Not dead?", Richter asked, without believing it. "Then why the hell am I seeing nothing? Why the hell can't I even hear a damn thing!?"

"It is normal.", the voice replied.

"No, it's NOT normal!", Richter shouted back. "I don't know what the hell is this, but I want to mind my surroundings right now!"

"No.", the voice replied.

Rage and fury began to build up upon the former Colonel.

"What!?", Richter asked, tightening his eyes.

"No.", the voice said again.

"You son of a- HOW DARE YOU SAY NO TO ME!?", Richter roared, furious. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ALL ABOUT!? WHY CAN'T I SEE!? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME LOOKING!? LET ME SEE, NOW!"

"No.", the voice answered. "Not until you do what we want."

"_Really!?_", Richter asked, livid. "And what the hell do you want!?"

"Something simple.", the voice replied. "Something easy."

Richter then simply stood there, despondent and alone.

But then, a group of fiery eyes appeared before him. Eyes that glowed as yellow, as imponent and as evil as the sun itself. Eyes that burned with the power of not one, but a hundred suns. Eyes that stared at him.

Richter then lost his anger, he lost his stance. All of it were replaced with sudden, pure fear.

"_Let us help._"

* * *

**HYPERION HANGAR BAY 12**

Even though it wasn't hurting too much, Rory Swann still let out some sigh of pain since he barely got out alive of that explosion in the Engineering. He couldn't tell if there was anything inside still to be checked out or it'd be something that would get him along the long run. Still, he got used to the pain. He got used to it since that day on Meinhoff, years before he joined the Raiders. Years before the Zerg infested the place.

On that day, he lost everything. His friends, his hard-earned gain, his business. He lost his arm on that day. All thanks to that selfish bastard who, like a spoiled child, wanted all of the cake and none for those whom worked for it. The person responsible had been abusing time and again on the taxation on Swann's miners while the Combine dared turn a blind eye. '_Their silence must have been bought..._', Swann thought. But the day the miners have had enough, it was the day they couldn't withstand the abuses anymore. Still, even being with all the right to protest was worth nothing when automated walkers and machine guns were in the play, whom even cut the revolting people in half. Weren't for the Raiders and that good cowboy person to rescue him and the survivors, Swann wouldn't live through the day. It was ever since then that the _Hyperion_ Chief Engineer had been in debt to that man.

That was his reminding as he looked across the large hangar bay, that at times became an armory to refit weapons and the ships and vehicles whom lied there. Vehicles of all sizes and shapes, such as the ones that stood before his sight, amongst the stacked crates spread across. On one such stack, lied two muscular soldiers with black tight suits and some sort of a pure metal bulletproof chest vest. The suits of those soldiers had a logo on their shoulders, a symbol with an African or Jamaican like drawing, which, when seen correctly, formed a skull. Their helmets were much alike and extremely different than those used by Ghosts, with their two optical lens being red, their helmet seemed to form a single piece and the respirator itself was more broad and larger. They carried a special type of rifle, each seemingly thicker than the C-20A, but without a scope or targeting system of any sort. These people weren't mostly seen through out the sector, but they've been with the Raiders, also owning them much, since Raynor had aided their leader, even with the supposed claims that every and each one of them had been out in a bloodthirsty killing spree.

Something then caught his attention as a Dropship, moving slow and carefully, maneuvered through the energy screen and landed on the open area of the hangar, as it's room was given after the previously stationed Viking had been moved to the other hangar. It was a black vessel, with the symbol of two R letters with their backs glued on one another, and designed in a manner that reminded a sword.

They were back. Swann then left the platform balcony, where he most overseen how things were going on his idle hours, and started to walk down the metal ladder that connected the balcony to the floor, starting his long walk to the Dropship. Sparks raised to his left as a trusted crew of four mechanics began to use their welding tools on that mercenary Siege Tank, a property of the Siege Breakers, former Confederate elite Siege Tank pilots whom preferred to make a living at the outside then standing with the Dominion made of terrorists they fought against. To his right, stood a female pilot in her suit and wearing her helmet, by a Banshee, having a smoke. A member of the Dusk Wings.

The cargo bay doors of the Dropship began then to open, revealing the people inside whom began to step out. Crewmembers, Marines, all people whom worked for the Raiders. As well as Matt Horner and the Marine besides him, Sergeant Mart White.

"So, playboy?", Swann asked. "How was it? Is it done?"

"Technically, yes, Swann.", Horner answered. "But we have other problems."

"What, that scientist brat picked up trouble again?", Swann asked, referring to Braxton.

"No, not this one.", Horner replied. "The Protoss are back."

"They're back!?", Swann asked, surprised. "I thought they'd given up on those people!"

"They didn't, Swann.", Horner said. "They've set roots close by the Sanctuary settlement. Ariel said that things have been tense, but stable. I fear it may go worse unless we try to intervene."

"Intervene, huh?", Swann asked. "As in '_coming up shooting and kicking them out_' or the other kind?"

"The other kind, Swann.", Horner said. "We're still following Jim's rules, even if he's gone, that we'll not fire on Protoss or anyone else unless absolutely necessary. And if we do it, we might put a bullseye on Ariel's people and make it open season. I won't have that. I'm going to try and have a face-to-face talk, if I can."

"That's definitely not a good idea, Captain!", White protested. "Exposing yourself like that may be exactly what they want."

"I have to take the risk, Sergeant.", Horner replied. "I need you and your best men on this. A small guard, to not draw nervous reaction."

"Will do, then, Cap.", White said. "At least when we're done with the other matter..."

"Other matter?", Swann asked. "What is it?"

"Where is he?", Horner asked.

"By the crates.", White said. "Want me to get him?"

"Let's get to him.", Horner answered.

"Whoa, whoa, get to _who_?", Swann asked as Horner and White left him and began to head to a certain stack of crates, where a single person in mechanic monkey suit was unloading one such crate. Swann decided to follow, as it concerned one of his own.

Hurried, heavy steps from the CMC-300 suit's Neosteel boots where heard from behind his person as he must have realized they were coming for him. Immediately, this crewmember stopped unloading his crate and began to step forward, in direction of the nearby access door. As the steps approached closer, the faster the crewmember walked his pace, almost to the point of running.

"Going somewhere... _Your Highness_?", White's voice was heard behind the crewmember.

Suddenly, the crewmember felt a hand too heavy grasp his left shoulder and pull it, forcing the crewmember to stop and turn, revealing his face to Horner, White and Swann, who widened his eyes in surprise and upsetting anger. A face that was too familiar, even with the crewmember's hat and the stains on his face, obviously intentionally made ones.

Prince Valerian was there, in a mechanic monkey suit, caught like a kid whom was sneaking the kitchen to get the cookie pot.

"**YOU!?**", Swann asked, furious.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?", Horner asked next, angry. "Are you out of your royal mind, Valerian!?"

"I was doing my job, thank you.", Valerian answered, in defense.

"_Oh, so your greatest accomplishment in life is to be lifting and unloading crates_!?", White asked, with a heavy sarcastic tone. "Bullroar, Prince boy!"

"How did you find me, then!?", Valerian asked, angry. "I thought I did a good job in disguise!"

"Your smell ratted you out.", White answered.

"_My smell_?", Valerian asked, smelling the armpits. "I don't believe it, I got the smell of two days aboard, I thought that about disguised it."

"It does, son, but in Kel-Morian standards.", White said. "Here we shower about everyday. Even fringe world yokels have a cleaning habit."

"_That's not the point, White_!", Horner shouted, interrupting the conversation. "What you just did was irresponsible, Valerian! Irresponsible and _dangerous_! You could've been caught by those colonists, and then we'd be in real trouble! That'd be all what they'd want about, Valerian, your blood!"

"And, out of curiosity, Charming, whom the hell you got this suit from!?", Swann asked, angry.

"Not whom, from where.", Valerian answered. "It was from the quarters of someone whom never returned to his room. Someone named Reuben."

"Reuben is a dead person! Killed, might I add, in that _crusade_ you've put the cowboy in!", Swann said, furious. "Not only you've got the guts to do something stupid, you lack respect for a dead men and his belongings!", he added, as he showed his mechanical wrench arm to Valerian. "Right now, I'd just use this to escort you and your _nuts_ to the brig upstairs!"

"That's enough, Swann, I think he got the message!", Horner said, staring at Swann and then at Valerian. "Now listen to me, Valerian. From now on, you are walking on your usual, fancy, regal attire of yours, inside the ship. And no, this is NOT negotiable! Either you follow those rules, or I'm putting you down on the colony, either with Ariel's people or the Protoss! You and your men! _And to hell with whatever happens later_!"

Valerian simply stared at him.

"How much you heard of the conversation?", Horner asked.

"About everything.", Valerian answered, taking the mechanic's hat off. "And you call me nuts! You, who's thinking of going with some men to meet people whom seem to want your head!"

"Unlike you, Valerian, I know what I'm doing!", Horner replied back.

"It doesn't seem so!", Valerian exclaimed. "Ever thought they might want to lounge on you for their 'Purifier' of theirs, whatever the hell that is!?"

"Yes, I thought that, but my priority are those people down there, Valerian!", Horner said. "And you better stay out of this, for your own good! That's a Raider matter, you don't have anything to do with this, and the Protoss won't react nicely to see the son of the Emperor before them, especially after Jim told them what your father did!"

"He did?", Valerian said. "That's why the Protoss engaged the Dominion fleet at every turn?"

"They're a very vengeful people, Valerian, I assure you that.", Horner said. "Now, take off that clothing and hand it to Swann. And do me a favor to shower before anything else!"

Simply staring at the trio before him, Valerian then stepped back twice, turned around and left to the door. As he reached it, he spinned the handle and the door halves slipped open. Horner, White and Swann did not follow him since.

"Did you think I went a bit far?", Horner asked.

"No, you've done just right, Horner.", Swann said, bitter. "Things like that you gotta cut off on the spot. Otherwise, he'll grow used to it and abuse a bit."

"Seconded.", White said. "See, Cap'n? Ain't too hard to command things after all."

"That was just a small thing, White.", Horner said. "I'm worried about other things. So, Sergeant, will you assemble your team?"

"Will do.", White said. "When we leave?"

"Within three hours.", Horner said. "And Swann, mind if I ask you to keep an eye on Valerian? Last thing I need is him doing something stupid."

"After that?", Swann asked. "Sure, playboy, I'll leave Kachinsky taking care of things and look out for him until you get back."

"Very well, then.", Horner said. "Alright, gentlemen, let's get to work."

With this said, Horner and White left to the access door that Valerian walked by, as Swann returned to the balcony where he came from as he let out another sigh, this time not of pain, but of frustration.

He wanted to believe this would be a normal day and that they could leave as everything was just fine.

The news of the Protoss appearance and Valerian's attempt at a disguised sneak-out just proved him how wrong was that thought.

* * *

**DAELAAM ARK, DEEP SPACE**

The yellow nebulae of the space outside seemed quite serene and peaceful compared to the rest of space in the Koprulu Sector, even though there were no words or moons to gaze upon and the stars seemed like randomly written white dashed lines, without any significance or purpose all. This denoted the speed of the Protoss vessel, the gigantic Ark that swam across the starry ocean. Despite the enormous size of the vessel and it's engines, the ship could move at an unprecedented speed, all thanks to what the humans would call the _Faster-Than-Light_ travel. While this was the best method amongst Terrans to cross the eternal black abyss to worlds they could reach, the Protoss considered this as a simple plaything, a mere secondary option, as they had more faster, yet safer and comforting options for interstellar travel, such as their fabled Dimensional Recall or their own warping technology. Their level of psionics and sentience granted to them by their creators, the Xel'Naga, had seen to it that the Protoss could always remain somewhat ahead of the other races. The Protoss could have even gone faster and much, perhaps too much ahead in the technological race, were not for their superstitions to their said 'gods'.

Lasarra had then finished her gaze of the space outside, stepping away from the holographic energy window, whose energies sealed and pressurized the ship from the vacuum outside, preserving gravity and perhaps a chance for breathable air. Despite the fact Protoss had no noses and were not dependent of oxygen like Terrans, they still required gravity for proper movement within the worlds and vessels they stepped upon. She then turned around and started walking across the golden-plated halls of the vessel, whose wide corridors and intersections allowed for a comfortable traverse. So much the ceiling as the walls and floor were mostly colored gold, with ornamental details such as the emblem of the Protoss tribes, the Daelaam fleet or native writing of their language. Between those golden colored plating and details, also stood equally beautified, crafted blue jewelry, energy hexagon floors and even holographic systems displaying the conditions of the vessel as well as other information. All to represent the superior said 'nobility' of their once proud civilization of Aiur.

Lasarra had just passed besides a walking, unarmed crewmember, by a floral pad with machinery below, as she took a right turn by an intersection to start her work, that was overseeing the maintenance of the small Sentries, floating machines that reminded manta rays, with the exception each and every one of them carried some sort of an energy ball at their backs, the source of their energy as well as the technological capabilities they could perform.

Suddenly, her sight caught the a floating figure before her, one wearing a helmet and chest armor, as well as purple colored garments and cape, followed by two Zealots with their Psi Blades always activated, as if they escorted and kept guard over this person. His floating was an actual, usual exercise to keep control over his mastery of Psionics. She simply continued to walk forward, looking forward as well to avoid unnecessary and unwelcome eye contact, that might arise a negative reaction of that person or his guards.

However, it was Raseac whom first looked at her.

"En Taro Tassadar, Lasarra.", he greeted, as Lasarra then stopped, turned to face him and bowed in reverence.

"En Taro Adun, Executor Raseac.", Lasarra greeted back, then finishing her bow to look straight at the Executor. "Have you need of me?"

"I was actually hoping to speak to you.", Raseac answered, descending 'till his feet touched the ground. "Unless, of course, you are occupied."

"Truth be told, Executor, I was headed as of now to initiate my duty.", Lasarra said. "I have been assigned to Evaluator Kalimdor."

"Yes, Kalimdor. Responsible for the maintenance of Sentries.", Raseac said. "Such small machines, but still as important they are as are the towering, imposing Colossi. Even so, if you will allow me to speak with you, I can arrange your absence does not result in unpleasant consequences."

"Are you certain, Executor?", Lasarra asked. "Would the Evaluator not be disappointed with my absence?"

"I am an Executor, as you well said, Lasarra.", Raseac answered. "As this position has it's duties, so it does have it's privileges. Now, if you may please accompany me?"

She then hesitated for a brief period, before she joined his side and they started walking the other size, contrary to Lasarra's previous destination. The Zealot guards followed both, then.

"Well, then.", Lasarra said, hesitating. "What it is you would like to speak, then?"

"I am interested in simply meeting one such as you, young one.", Raseac said. "One of such potential and capacity, as well as one of such a privileged lineage."

"Is this related to...", Lasarra started, but hesitated, trying to control her anger and disgust of saying that term. "_My sister_, Executor?"

"To a limited point.", Raseac said. "'Tis often strange I, myself, have never came to know one so close to the High Executor of the Daelaam until now. Selendis herself never mentioned of you, not even once."

"'Tis usual of her to do such things.", Lasarra replied. "I am rarely spoken of, and when I am, it is not in a positive way."

"How so?", Raseac asked.

"It has to do with her obedience of Artanis and his decision to remain in inaction, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "It has created a very negative reaction from those outside such circle of trust. Many believe that both have nurtured a nature of cowardice. And, thus, being the sister to one of them has this reputation reflect upon me. Something that I have tried to strip myself off of for days on end, but I could not."

"I see.", Raseac said. "Therefore, this proves the said rumors were indeed true. The rumors that you have attempted, time and again, to join the Daelaam, but you were refused time and again."

Lasarra closed her eyes in shame and then opened them as she looked down, to the floor.

"_Unfortunately._", she said, bitterly. "At first, when I was rejected, I had believed it had to do with my physical condition or fighting capacity. It was much later that I discovered Selendis' influence in the decisions to reject me, regardless of how hard I have tried to enter and be a thing another than one's sister."

"Have you ever fathomed why such devotion of her, to not let you wield a pair of Psi-Blades of your own?", Raseac asked.

"All the time, Executor.", Lasarra deadpanned. "My... sister claims she does so to protect me, but I refuse to believe such a reason. I believe it has to do with her own reputation as well. She fears what I do, even if I succeed, my diminish or even end her blaze of glory. She fears what I might become, and that this would undermine her authority, as the warriors would admire someone that may be akin of blood, but different in action."

"Perhaps.", Raseac said. "But even this reason Selendis has, even though it may be a lie, as you well claim, is also tangible. She IS your sister, after all, and thus this delivers a burden of responsibility that matches that mighty Tassadar had with his people. An obligation, not only moral, but spiritual, to preserve and watch over one whom shares the bond of blood. So, regardless, she has to watch over you."

"But even so, she treats me like if I was an infant, _something I am no longer_!", Lasarra exclaimed. "And, even as she claims I am, then mayhaps I am an infant too _overgrown_, would you not agree, Executor?"

Raseac let himself out a small chuckle.

"Indeed, I would.", he said. "Then it must be what infuriates you the most, is it not? 'Tis not the lack of skill or preparation, but that you are denied an opportunity to use and learn so?"

"More than anything I have ever despised.", Lasarra said. "If one cannot be granted a chance to grow, how can he _ever_ be expected to grow, at all?"

"Indeed.", Raseac said. "Which is why I would like to offer you a chance at a different path."

Lasarra then stopped and turned to face her superior, whom stopped walking as well.

"A different path?", Lasarra asked.

"I can see how different you are from your sister, by this conversation alone.", Raseac answered. "Your desire for a life different than a weaver, or a jewel crafter, surrounded by poor saying, is evident. You have been time and again attempting to enter that which your sister would never allow, awaiting for an opportunity to prove your worth. I am offering it to you. Whether you will enter this world of worth or not, is no longer a matter of chance, but choice. A choice that now stands at your hands."

Lasarra however, said nothing, more hesitating than never.

"You are quiet, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "Is it a silence of hesitation, one of surprise, or one of denial?"

"You...", Lasarra started, nervous. "You would... train me... _as a warrior_?"

"'Tis not what you desire most?", Raseac said. "To master the art of combat and, thus so, your fate?"

"But my sister would not approve this, Executor!", Lasarra said, worried. "And I do not wish to see you or your life of excellence and discipline be harmed for a personal desire of mine!"

"I understand your concern with me, Lasarra.", Raseac said, letting out a small chuckle. "'Tis a part of you. I would be very surprised if you had not. Even so, fret not, young one. I have withstood far more punishment in the field than with the pompous ruling of those whom sit comfortably and idly at home. As for your sister, herself... She has to do nothing, if she has to not know."

"Keeping this from her a secret, then?", Lasarra asked.

"An alternative, second life, one which we desire the most, is so much made in shadows as are the movements behind the Hierarchy Assembly.", Raseac said. "Compared to those, your desire is hardly a selfish one, either, just of one that wants to aid our people in a way another than crafting jewelry. I assure you, 'till the end of our travel to the iceworld, this agreement will be open, so much as the barrier to my personal quarters. Now, the remainder rests on you to cross the barrier."

Lasarra simply remained quiet, looking at the Executor, then. The temptation she so desired had presented before her. Pity she'd only have to do it behind the ever watching guard of her sister. But then, there was no option to something you were denied of time and again, especially with those talking of her as if they were talking to Selendis herself.

"I will allow you now to return to your duties, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "In the meantime, consider the offering I make to you. Now go, Lasarra. En Taro Adun."

Lassara then bowed before the Executor once more as she resumed her former path, whom now seemed distant with the quantity of walking both persons traveled.

"One more thing, young one.", Raseac called as the Protoss lady stopped. "Consider wisely, and ensure your mind is as prepared as your body. Once this limit is crossed, you can return no more. Go."

Lasarra then left to her duties as Raseac proceeded forward, lifting himself up again to continue his exercise of his powers.

Lasarra, if she had a mouth, would allow herself a smirk. Instead, she simply walked forward.

At last, the opportunity had presented.

She only wondered what took so long for it to come.

* * *

**DYLARIAN SHIPYARDS, HIGH ORBIT OVER DYLAR IV**

"So that's the _Vengeance_?", Ebert Henderson asked as he looked at the line of Battlecruisers by the Drydocks below. Apart from the IFF coding, however, they virtually all looked the same. But Henderson and Litvak, whom was to his right, were looking at the second one up-close. "It looks so... So..."

"'_So much like the others_', you mean?", Litvak asked. "Yeah, that's not a bit surprising... I guess the difference must be more on the insides."

Henderson let out a small sigh.

"Well...", Henderson started, taking a deep breath. "Let's hope it stands as long as the _Wrath_ did, if not longer."

"I wouldn't put much of a hope in that, Ebert, especially with those things still all around.", Litvak commented. "The only way it'll still be standing by the time it's retiring is when each and every one of them is done for."

"Still, I can't believe I'm gonna have to share a ship with her!", Henderson said, frustrated.

"_Hey_!", Litvak censored, turning to stare at him. "Now, listen up, mister! It was a bit funny at first sights, but now it's growing too ridiculous! And I swear, if I have to pass even a _single_ day in waste disposal, I'm requesting a transfer and you're on your own with the lady! So get a grip, man up and grow a pair, for crying the hell out loud!"

"You forgot you're saying that to your squad leader.", Henderson said, facing her.

"So please, for your sake and mine, sir, I suggest you start _acting like it_!", Litvak said.

"If it'll comfort you, don't worry, Lydia, I'll try to make a try.", Henderson said.

"That is reasurring.", said a female voice behind them, with that German accent Henderson himself came to fear. Litvak and Henderson then turned to see Keitel standing before then, only this time she wasn't alone. She seemed to be accompanied by two persons, a short-hair redhead female and a tall, burly Caucasian person, resembling european traits.

"Keitel.", Litvak said, before Henderson could open his mouth. "Your crew?"

"If prefer so, _mein frau_.", Keitel answered, with that uncomfortable smile riddling her. "'Ze _frau_ to my left is Mandy Yeats, while this round, well-built _herr_ here is Jürgen Valsdottr, also known as 'The Sweden'."

"One of the survivors of the _Verhoeven_ episode.", the redhead lady, Yeats, said. "Your newly-acquired reputation precedes you."

"Appreciated.", Henderson said.

"Here to see our new 'house'?", Litvak said, with a slight sarcastic tone.

"_Nein_.", Keitel said, smiling. "I was actually hoping to have a slight talk with you both."

Keitel, then alone, began to step forward, looking all serene and smiling.

"Now, let's us try and be a more straight.", Keitel started. "I know you don't want to work with me. I don't know why, but I also don't care, because, either way, none one of us has an actual choice. But, since we will be together for a _Zëit_ far longer than what we'd wish, can we, _please_, at least try to be more friendly?"

"As you said, we don't have a choice, do we?", Litvak asked back.

"So...", Keitel said, tilting her head to the left, making a shiver grow on the spines of both. "_Why don't we try now_? _Hallo_, _frau_ Litvak."

"Hello.", Litvak said, nervous, after a small pause.

"Hello, _herr_ Henderson.", Keitel said, turning her head then to Henderson.

"Hi.", Henderson said, nervous as well.

"See?", Keitel asked, smiling. "Nothing wrong between us, then. I don't bite. At least not _frequently_. Now, I will go. Maybe then, when we meet, we'll keep on trying, _won't we_?"

The German lady then stepped back, her head tiling to the right and with a smile.

"_Until then..._", she ended, songfully, as she waved her head and left to the corridor. Yeats had followed her, but Valsdottr, the said 'Sweden', had remained, staring at Henderson.

"She told me of you.", Valsdottr said. "You look small."

"From your point of view, you mean.", Henderson said, nervous.

"Tell me: Have you ever spent time with a Sweden?", Valsdottr asked. "_Do you want to_?"

"No!", Henderson exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Hell no!"

The large, bulky person simply looked at him, then turned around and left.

"Then I'd mind my manners with her, if I were you...", he finalized, walking the same direction Keitel and Yeats followed.

Henderson closed his eyes in relief as Litvak simply looked at the person whom left, her jaw dropped.

"_What the hell have they been feeding this guy_?", Litvak mumbled.

"I don't know, but we're sure screwed.", Henderson said, trying to get a grip. "It's not enough the brass threatening a transfer out of pilot duty, now I got this... _duplex_ to worry about!"

"I was a bit more concerned with Keitel.", Litvak replied. "Did you see how she talked and tiled her head? _That's not normal_."

"That gave me the creeps.", Henderson said. "That and that sick smile too."

"Yeah.", Litvak agreed. "I'm starting to believe the Cap put us together with a psycho."

"Attention, crew members of the Battlecruiser _Vengeance_.", the male voice of the broadcast station echoed across the corridor. "Ship departure is scheduled within one hour. Access granted at Drydock Alpha Eight, Access Tunnel B. Pilots are required a forty-five minute early presence for fighter assessment and ship tour."

"A ship tour?", Henderson asked, surprised. "That's a first."

"Might be a different interior design.", Litvak said. "They change everything frequently these days."

"You tell me.", Henderson said. "Well, here goes nothing then."

Henderson and Litvak then left, curiously, by the same path Keitel and her men went.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR.**

The chamber of the Evolution Pit was empty at the time being as Kerrigan had been locking her sight on the single lonely egg before her. Abathur was probably busy, working on the alternatives that would allow her to fire that lightning that ended the life of that Reaper she faced. Either this or checking on the progress of the infestation procedure of those Terran corpses brought aboard. But this did not matter her for the time being. What mattered now was that egg before her, as kept her eyes open and her body rested at her feet.

That egg was something different than what others believed. From what she was doing, it would seem it was some personal project that the former Queen of Blades was overseeing herself. To her however, this egg was different.

That egg was her _target._

It was practically incredible how she was forced to improvise, especially concerning the lack of a bullseye target for her to fire to. That egg was all she had as an option to try and see if she could fire that lightning again, this time fully conscious and aware of the risks she was running. She was hoping she could control and therefore hone her skill through practice, so she could dismiss whatever solution Abathur was cooking. This would not only save the creature an amount of work, but would also avoid some collateral effect that might occur should something go wrong with his project.

She kept her focus on what she'd do next. That was one of the first steps she always learned at her training days in the Ghost Program, to concentrate and then release her potential. That mostly was the key on what she'd have to do. The only difference this time was that, for the first time, she was doing it on her own volition, not following orders or with people with files noting statistics on her powers. Not that she didn't have an option, but she could not defend herself, either, as she already lost her weapon. And, seeing as Izsha would want to deploy her back into the field anytime soon, she'd need to speed things up a bit too.

Her eye pupils have gone her golden, fierce yellow glow as she raised her right hand, aiming it at that egg. She slightly pulled her hand and lounged it forward, somewhat like she released her Kinetic Blasts, but nothing came out of it. '_It must still have been lighter..._', she thought. She then made another try, closing her face in an attempt to truly focus on the lightning at hand. She then, again, lightly pulled her hand and lounged it, and nothing still came out.

"Come on...", Kerrigan growled, as she tried yet again, yet nothing still. She tried to put more concentration, as she could feel a headache build up as well as her body temperature rising. She then tried one more time, but this time something came out of her hand, but only a small spark. A sign it was close, but not entirely there.

The Ghost could feel her body already straining, as well as her mind, on the point of breaking as she tried to access this power. Still, it was hardly enough. As she tried again, another nimble spark erupted.

"_Come on_!", Kerrigan grimaced in pain, as she felt her body begin to tremble. At the newest try however, she could feel it and thus it released from her hand.

The lightning. Yet it was too hard to release it. She could feel the voltage of the electricity release run through her body like a current, at the same time that left her senses numb but also as the bolts were striking at her like boiling knives out of the furnace. Her body began to falter as it could feel the exhaustion, as well as an invisible burden, like that of carrying something heavy at her backs, was growing heavier by the minute. She began to let out a scream of pain as she continued to fire the lightning she could see, and it was striking the egg now. The egg itself was convulsing as the flesh itself began to crisp, the host inside making effort in a desperate agony to survive.

Eventually, even a few seconds of shooting lightning were too much for Kerrigan. She then, out of her own self-preservation instinct, stopped firing the lightning as she collapsed to the ground, to the point of almost passing out. Her body was too tired and her head was hurting like it'd last for years on end. Although she didn't see it, she could hear the egg cracking open and the Zerg within, that was supposed to be some sort of creature, crawling out of it, convulsing in abject pain from the forced birth it suffered. It screamed and roared until it could no more. Until it could move no more. Apparently, Abathur was right on what he said. The effort required was far beyond Terran standards at all.

"I have alerted you, my Queen.", Kerrigan heard the voice of Abathur to the left her. "Your physical and psionic condition are not fit to access such potential. Why have you ignored my warning, then?"

"It didn't hurt to try, Abathur.", Kerrigan answered. "I thought I could handle it if I concentrated enough, then I wouldn't need whatever it is you're cooking."

"Such limitation, my Queen, is not a matter of concentration, but a biological matter.", Abathur said. "Unless you prefer to stand at bay until I have finalized the solution, I would recommend you to pass through the enhancement procedure. Otherwise, you would never be able to easily access the psionic potential, only accomplishing to exhaust yourself again and repeatedly."

"Why are you here, by the way, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, dismissively, as she got on her feet. "I thought you were busy with that solution."

"You have ordered me to alert the Terran you requested to see was at moments to finalize it's infestation procedure.", Abathur answered.

"And it did it?", Kerrigan asked, turning around.

"The process is almost finalized.", Abathur said.

"Good.", Kerrigan said. "Let's get to it, then."

Kerrigan and Abathur then started walking deeper into the Evolution Pit, past the several eggs on the floor and walls, Kerrigan still a bit exhausted from the previous attempt at a practice. As they arrived at the deep regions of the Evolution Pit chamber, she noticed the eggs were gradually starting to remain behind and being replaced by egg-like cocoons, that were much alike Zerg eggs although with one difference or two.

"I can't believe I spent a moment of four years lost inside _one_ of those things...", Kerrigan mumbled.

"You were not.", Abathur said, deadpan. "Given you were a special strain, an unique Chrysalis was developed for your former process."

"Abathur, please...", Kerrigan said. "Just... _don't_."

Kerrigan and Abathur had then stopped their tracks by a certain cocoon before them.

"Is that it?", Kerrigan gestured at the cocoon before her. Abathur then remained silent. The cocoon had been moving more than the others, with the addition of cracking and moving sounds being emitted.

The cocoon then let out a crack on it's transparent layer as something had come out of the gap, filling it completely. Some sort of a thick, twin bone claw enveloped in flesh had drilled through the layer and then started dragging itself across the layer, ripping it open. Liquid started leaking out into the ground as Kerrigan herself stepped back.

Then, as if bursting through the void of the recently broken egg, a massive figure came from within it, stepping erratically outside the cocoon. Kerrigan could recognize the bits of the CMC-300 belonging to the Marine she had Abathur spare, but the work the hyper-evolutionary virus had done on him made sure he wasn't and couldn't ever be human anymore. The armor, especially the torso, was covered in Zerg-made flesh and carapace, with some tendrils and tentacles forming shapes that were rather more ornamental than having any purpose at all. Between the gaps in the shoulders of this person, two abnormally large scythe-like growths extruded from him, pointing always forward.

The greatest change, however, was his supposed face. The face wasn't human anymore, but completely Zerg, enveloped in living red flesh, with tentacles coming out from what was supposed to be it's mouth. Out the Terran-ish features, only the eyes and the supposed nose were still intact. Although also, the eyes glowed in an intense crimson, burning red as the being breathed heavily for the first minutes of his initial life.

"Mother of God...", Kerrigan mumbled, looking at the monstruosity before her. She and Abathur simply looked at the infested creature as it looked at them, breathing heavily and looking furious and angry. The creature let out a growl, although it wasn't a furious one, but it was more of a tired one.

"What...", the infested Terran said, slowly. "Why... Where..."

"Can you hear me?", Kerrigan asked to the creature.

The creature then roared in a surprising demonstration of anger. Kerrigan stepped back, surprised, her eyes widened. Abathur, however, did not step away.

"Infested Terrans react aggressively to a normal communication attempt, in their initial minutes.", Abathur said. "Psionic communication is more safer."

Listening to Abathur's suggestion, Kerrigan pressed her temple with her left hand and focused on the creature before her, that recomposed himself.

'_Can you hear me?_', Kerrigan asked, psionically. '_Can you understand me?_'

A long paused occurred, with no answer at all.

"He's not responding.", Kerrigan said, lowering her left hand.

"He is awake for only a few moments, my Queen.", Abathur said. "Time for recovery is necessary."

'_Yes._', the infested Marine said, slowly, getting Kerrigan's attention. Kerrigan then returned to pressing her temple.

'_Do you know your name?_', Kerrigan asked, psionically. '_Do you remember who you are?_'

The creature only then looked at her.

'_Richter._', the Marine said, slowly. '_Colonel. Dominion._'

"_A Colonel_!?", Kerrigan asked, surprised. "Why the hell Warfield would send a high brass to a cave?"

"Unknown and irrelevant, my Queen.", Abathur answered.

"That was a rhetoric, Abathur.", Kerrigan replied, insulted. "You weren't supposed to answer that."

"Apologies, my Queen.", Abathur said.

'_Do you know why you're here?_', Kerrigan asked to the Marine, this 'Richter'. '_Why you're alive? Do you know what happened?_'

However, Richter did not answer any of the questions, only letting out a growl of pain and exhaust.

"The Terran must recover, my Queen.", Abathur said. "No less than five Terran hours."

"Then I can ask what I want of him?", Kerrigan asked.

"Yes.", Abathur said.

"Alright, then.", Kerrigan said. She then pressed her temple again and looked at Richter. '_Okay, Richter, you don't need to answer anything now. Take your rest. We'll talk later._'

With this said, Kerrigan and Abathur left the chamber, leaving the creature with it's own thoughts.

Thoughts of pain.

Anguish.

Suffering.

* * *

**HYPERION CANTINA**  
**THIRTY MINUTES LATER**

The Cantina was full that day, with persons wearing both the badges of the Dominion shield and the Raiders two R letters talking to one another, getting to know one another, sharing drinks as the jukebox above played '_Raw Power_' and the television, the channel set to the _Universal News Network_, was displaying the results of the Korhalian 37th Planetary Madden Pantheon Cup, concerning the Styrling Lyons and the Fairsterns' Crusaders. In the bar, Cooper, the bartender, had never been so occupied serving them all shots, being twice as busy, but also being twice as paid than when the Raider crew alone frequented the Cantina. There were smiles and conversations everywhere. All but in one table. A table with a white male with short hair and glasses, working his computer. He was doing everything but smile.

Graven Hill was not having a good day. He wished he'd have twice the Mai Tai he usually had during his time on the _Hyperion_, as he got his contracts lined up for Raynor to call in those unreliable, but nevertheless necessary mercenaries. The demonstration had come in that day, as several Merc groups he worked his behind so hard to line up had already disbanded. The War Pigs were the first, not liking the Dominion personnel aboard, not forgiving their government for the brainwash efforts of the Cerberus Program on their leader, Cole Hickson. The Devil Dogs, Spartan Company and Hel's Angels had finished their contracts and went on to 'greener pastures', where the larger gross of money was being offered. The crew of the _Jackson's Revenge_ was forced to warp away after the Battle of Char and break contact and contract when a Dominion boarding party attempted to arrest them.

Now, here he was, reading a resignation letter from yet another Mercenary group, that was more of a contractor company.

_Mister Hill._

_As you are well aware, the contract for the support of our Marauders was forced a change, due to the recent events that struck the whole sector. Indeed, the fruits of your efforts have been frugal to our company, but the request for our services has steadily increased since the Queen of Blades had fallen on Char. So much Umojan research expeditions and companies as much as our Kel-Morian partners and the Combine itself have been making offers we honestly cannot refuse. And, given the shortage of our current military assets, we can't attend you all at once. So, it's with deep regret that we are finalizing our deal with Raynor's Raiders until we are in conditions of negotiating a new contract then._

_Understand, mister Hill, it's nothing personal. Not even the said favors from your old times in service to the Combine. It's just that these other contracts can simply pay more. I trust you understand how this works._

_A Dropship will be locking into the Hyperion's beacon to collect the personnel and H-Sec property within forty-eight hours. In respect to our contract, we will not unveil the Hyperion's location to the Terran Dominion. We only ask you notify our personnel aboard of the rescindance of the contract and have the preparations for departure facilitated._

_Cutty Brattle, Senior Executive._

_Hammer Securities, Private Military Contractor_

'_Greedy bastards_.', Hill thought, angry, as he pressed a button on his computer and the message went off. Now, another group had joined the flock whom jumped ship. All there was left now were the Siege Breakers and Dusk Wings, and there was not much option to keep them aboard but to find a paycheck, and soon. The pay promised to Raynor for recovering those alien things wasn't delivered. Either the boy Prince couldn't make the transaction in time or Raynor, being the samaritan loverboy he was, had refused the payment, thinking getting her girlfriend back was paycheck enough. He hoped it was the former, and that Hill could still have a chance of seeing the greenies. Love interests have never kept mercenary groups aboard, and it didn't seem that one was going to change something now.

"More rats leaving the ship, Hill?", Hill heard a voice behind him, belonging to a bald white person with short hair on the sides and behind and a bit of a seemingly overweight body, not looking like an actual Marine, when he was. "Now, I'd say things are going a bit pitch black."

"Don't mention it, Carradine.", Hill said, letting out a sigh as that person then took a seat to his right. "A group leaving is one thing, _six in a week_ is entirely another. If things keep going the current track, the Dominion will line up on us just easily. The only ones still supporting us are those in debt, like those Spectres and those people down there on Haven."

"Yeah, talking about, heard there's been volunteers down there wanting to apply.", Carradine said. "Bitch is, Horner's refusing them."

"That do-gooder attitude of his will cause us more trouble than good, you mark my words.", Hill stated. "It's not enough having to get used to look at Dominion troopers aboard and not be afraid of getting arrested and such."

"Pfft, _you think you're the only one_!?", Carradine scoffed. "These guys seriously need to get their rocks off. Been hearing every sort of complain of their people, everywhere I walked! Either cleanliness, or stuff isn't organized, or there isn't respect for authority! And, damn, not one single one of them have been doing something other than work! Not even these guys, here, I'm still to see one of them having more than a shot."

"That's what resocialization in the Dominion does, unfortunately.", Hill said. "All work, no play at all. I doubt those people even have _dreams_."

"Whatever.", Carradine said, letting out a sigh as he got on his feet. "Anyways, you'll want your Mai Tai? I'm gonna have me a Morian."

"Two shots.", Hill answered, letting a sigh out too. "It's not a good day."

Carradine then turned around and made his short walk towards the bar, past the round tables and the crowd occupying it. Out of his recent days in the Raiders, since his breakout from New Folsom Correctional Facility, that was a sight he never expected to see. It wasn't enough the news on that day, when Jim Raynor himself announced they'd be working in partnership with Valerian Mengsk, the very son of the Emperor of the Dominion they hated. The news alone made the crew on the verge of forming a mutiny, that Carradine would have joined in that instant. He could remember that other ex-convict, Findlay was his name, and one of the mechanics considering seriously to make a move on Raynor. But then, at least he didn't have to see Dominion personnel aboard, unlike that time now. Now he had too see those snobby, conservative people aboard everywhere he looked. Something that got on his nerves the most.

Quentin Carradine was never a fan of authority. The proof of it was that he was arrested twice. The first was during the time of the Confederacy. By then, five years prior to the first appearance of the Zerg, he was just that simple street wise-guy whom made his moves for a living, as he negotiated scams amongst some poor, middle-class citizenry that lived in the capital. One of the targets, however, turned out to be the daughter of the gone d'Arbanville Family, one of those whom integrated the elite whom ruled the Confederacy. He'd also bedded that daughter, stirring even more the father's anger when he discovered she was pregnant with his child. The eventual abortion came as well as his arrest at New Folsom, which was recently converted from a mining facility. He's then been into forced labor until his parole release into Tyrador IX, where he worked as a janitor for a resort in New Canaan. His surprise came six months when the Confederacy fell, and the new Dominion's reformed judicial system had reviewed his case, along with the several testimonies of other victims whom came to denounce him. The change was enough to have his parole revoked and sentenced to additional ten years. He came to hate the new Dominion since then. By the time of his breakout, he didn't think twice before joining the Raiders along with several others, demanding no payment, just payback against the Dominion.

So far, the relationship between Carradine and the Raider crew was steady, apart from the fact he frequently drank, almost the same quantity Raynor had his shots, not to mention he was a bit too much liberal in words, always speaking his mind. That often got him in trouble not only with the Dominion people now aboard, but also twice with Matt Horner and once with his superior officer, Mart White.

By the time he arrived to the bar, he could see Cooper, the bartender, mix up another shot for one of the four people by his bar. Amongst those four was a face he recently came to be familiar with. A female one.

"Well, Carradine?", Cooper asked. "Same Morian?"

"Sure, but have me two Mai Tai too.", Carradine answered. "Poor Hill's sliding down in depression..."

"Make it three.", the female voice to Carradine's right, Jessica Hall, had said. "I'll pay his."

"Whoa, I thought it was courtesy the man paying the lady's drinks.", Carradine commented.

"Please, Carradine, _not today_.", Hall said. "I'm not in a good mood. I swear, if I have to hear that _bitch_ Lenier again, I'm gonna do something I'll surely regret."

"Been pickin' on ya, huh?", Carradine asked, smirking. "What was it? Dress code? Punctuality? Refused her bed offer?"

"_You're really funny, y'knew that, Quentin_?", Hall asked, facing him, angry and sarcastically. "Problem of her was the way I worked. All because I don't salute everytime, handle transcripts everytime, say '_sir_' as first and last words... That girl is getting on my nerves! Cade had to intervene and tell her to give a time to adapt."

"And she does better?", Carradine asked.

"She does things I haven't learned yet, and I'm the ships communications officer!", Hall complained. "I'm the expert here and that blonde is teaching me basics like I'm a baby!"

"Whoo-wee...", mumbled Carradine, seemingly interested. "Is it just me or the powder keg will blow in the bridge soon?"

"Not just on the bridge, Quentin! _Everywhere_!", Hall said, counting on the fingers. "Stetmann went mad when the Dominion scientists began to temper with his research notes, Swann and the _Bucephalus_' chief engineer, Owens, have been in open discussion because Swann's genius is clashing with Owens' security issues, and the pilots just had a brawl on the restrooms over the dress code! Oh, like if there was _plenty_ of time to change clothes during a firefight and rush your ass to the nearest hangar to scramble every-fekking-time we went into trouble!"

Carradine blew a whistle.

"And what of good Cap'n and the other sissy, Vaughn?", Carradine asked.

"Nah, these two haven't been in trouble.", Hall answered. "Not yet at least. Think it'll come when they'll be forced to handle the ship past some trouble. What of your area, Quentin?"

"So far, the only one who's been doing something social was that Reamer guy and his men.", Carradine answered. "Other than that, most of those people, especially Valerian's guards, they've been working non-stop. They even spent _four freaking hours_ on the Shooting Gallery!"

"Man, I really hope Horner gets over his issues with Mira and decides to get a ship at Deadman's Port.", Hall said. "I'll tell you something, I'll be relieved when those people board out."

"Well, what I'll honestly say of them is-", Carradine said, before he was interrupted.

"Carradine!", Cooper called, bringing three drinks to the front of him, the third being different from the other two. "Morian Liquor and two Mai Tai. Enjoy!"

"He'll enjoy it later, Cooper. He's got work to do.", Carradine heard a voice behind him. He looked behind to see a man in blue armor, with a stern face and an optical lens replacing his lost left eye. "Alright, Carradine, get up."

"I thought it was vacation, boss!", Carradine played.

"Plans have changed.", White said. "Down on the Armory on the double, suit up and arm up. We're going on a trip down there."

"_A trip?_", Carradine asked, surprised. "I thought this place was safe, there was nothing to worry about!"

"Not anymore, I'm afraid.", White answered. "Come on, your Morian can wait."

"Hill's waiting his goods, Sarge!", Carradine asked, getting on his feet.

"I'll take it to him, don't worry.", Hall said. "See you later, Quentin."

As Quentin then left past the commotion, Hall then picked up the two beverages and went on to head to Hill's table when she suddenly hit someone whom came out of nowhere from her left and moved in a hurry. The impact was enough to both people get hurt and Hall spill both liquor glasses to the ground.

"**HEY!**", Hall shouted, angry. "_Watch where you're going_!"

"Oh, so sorry, madam, I- I got distracted.", said the responsible for the clash. Hall then looked at his face to see he was a young person, no doubt past his twenties, whom was wiping the liquor that got down on his uniform. The person seemed to have a hair too short, almost shaved out, bearing black eyes and a pale white skin. His body stature seemed well built and trained, despite the confidence apparently didn't seem much.

"Sorry about it, miss.", the young man said to Hall. "If you want me to have two replacements, I can pay."

"No, never mind, it'll be another half-hour before the Mai Tai are ready again.", Hall said, angry. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Dan Kelsey.", the young man said. "I'm with Valerian's personal guard."

"Whatever-", Hall started, when she got caught by the words he said. "His PERSONAL guard? We were talking about you not long ago!"

"R-really!?", Kelsey stuttered.

"Yeah, one of the guys says _none_ of you ever come to this place.", Hall said, gesturing by the bar. "What are you doing here, anyways?"

"Well, they say the drinks here ain't that bad.", Kelsey answered. "Reamer's regulars, I mean."

"Sure they're not bad, just ask Cooper by the bar.", Hall said. "He's even got some custom made, by the way. Now, can I please-"

"Kelsey!", Hall heard an angry, authoritarian voice behind her, as she turned around to look whom it was. The voice belonged to a Caucasian male with thick black hair and mustache as well, one absurdly trimmed according to military standards, and blue eyes. He had a stern face and have been looking at Kelsey with a look of authority and anger. Kelsey himself swallowed hard in abject fear as he walked to that man and saluted him.

"Sir?", Kelsey asked.

"I thought I warned you to not commingle with those people.", the man said. "How do you explain this?"

"Sir, I-", Kelsey stuttered. "I just-"

"_Silence, Kelsey_!", the man ordered, angry. "Return to your quarters at once! We'll discuss your punishment there!"

"Whoa, hey, he didn't do anything wrong, he just came by!", Hall protested.

"Exactly, lady.", the man answered back. "And I would stay away from him or any other of the Crown Prince's guard if I were you. The last thing I need of my men is getting _contaminated_ with the likes of you."

Hall took a breath and grew livid what he told her. The man than turned to Kelsey.

"And you!", the man said. "Out! **NOW!**"

Immediately, Kelsey stepped out to the access door and the man, simply staring at Hall, then, stepped back and turned to the door as well.

Hall simply had been standing there since. '_Who the hell is this guy?_', she thought, angry. '_And 'contaminated'!? Who the hell he thinks we are!?_'

* * *

**COMMANDER'S QUARTERS, _WHITE STAR_**

Ethel Hardscape had been sitting and resting on the chair on his quarters, analyzing the file concerning the new additions to the crew, replacing members lost during the battle in Phaeton. It's been some time since he'd been resting on that side of the chair. Emperor Mengsk, fortunately, had now left the _White Star_ and went for a ship that'd take him to the arrogant comfort of his palace in Korhal. That file, however, was only a secondary thing, the primary was waiting for his contact to arrive. The contact that'd deliver him the information he wanted. The contact that'd dig through the rigid security of the Dominion's deepest secrets.

What Emperor Mengsk said, that he had '_some sort of contingency_', bothered him the most. Back then, when serving the Confederacy, he was aware of the things the Confederate scientists and other people had been doing in it's innards. Secret and generally unbelievable, but unfortunately unacceptable things. His soldier self, loyal to his nation and his leaders, pleaded him, almost barked at him to just stay low and remain ignorant. Ignorance had it's bliss of safety, after all. But another, the person inside him, the same person that saved the fleet at that desert world, said different. It said something was wrong, and that it wasn't good for anyone. It urged him to find out what it was.

In his nearly thirty-years of military service, Hardscape believed he saw it all and done it all, from scrubbling the deck floors of the Battlecruisers to commanding one in an open battle. He wanted to believe he saw it all, past the hypocrisy and lies of politicians in the Old Families, past the secrets and involvement of the Confederates in Psionics' research, beyond the assassin puppets in the Ghost Program, past the curiosity in their enemies. The appearance of the aliens, the Zerg and the Protoss, had shook his belief much alike everyone else in the Sector, even in the old cradle of Man, Earth. Otherwise, why else would the UED send that Expeditionary Force, if not for another reason than full and complete hegemonic domination? But then, before the Zerg and Protoss came, Earth never actually cared for the bickering of the rejects of it's society, as Hardscape read in the history logs. The first Terrans to come to the Koprulu Sector were made of the worst kind.

Criminals. Cybernetic-augmented people. Deformed, in the pure biological and psionic sense. All rounded up like cattle by their government and shipped away like waste to that Sector of space, that'd become the bastion of nightmare and the only threshold of Man against the alien races. Otherwise, how long would it take for them to reach Earth, and who'd be there to stop them?

His thoughts were interrupted as the access door to his quarters opened, revealing a thin, white male person with mustache, beard and a long, brown hair that it didn't seem like it was cut in ages. His face feature a sort of a thin, but long nose, that mostly called it's attention rather than the rest of his face. However, his clothing was something that would not normally be approved in a military environment, especially in front of a commanding officer like Hardscape: He wore a standard white T-shirt and the blue pants of his uniform, along with the shoes, but the upper jacked was strapped by his belt, the arm sleeves tied together in a simple slipknot, as the remainder was behind, covering his buttocks like a cape of some sort. His left arm seemed to bear a tattoo of a four-leaf clover, a symbol of good luck of his ancestors.

"Ye' wanted to see me, Capt'n?", asked Elgin McCowler, with his heavy Irish accent.

"Yes, I want, mister McCowler.", Hardscape answered, closing the file and putting it on the table. "Please, sit down."

McCowler followed suit and sit in the chair, facing the Captain.

"I have a request for you.", Hardscape said. "But before I continue, I must be certain no one, and I mean ABSOLUTELY no one, will ever know of this. Not even the Emperor."

"Not even ol' 'Turus? Why the asking?", McCowler asked. "Is it illegal?"

"It's complicated.", Hardscape answered. "You know what got you working in the Dominion military, don't you? Your hacking skills inside any possible system, even the most secure?"

"Aye.", McCowler answered. "Ye interested in them?"

"I am now.", Hardscape answered. "I want you to make a dig deep inside the Dominion network."

"In our own system?", McCowler asked, curious. "What for? Can't ye' access the information you want?"

"Not the kind I want.", Hardscape answered.

McCowler let out a whistle.

"Black Ops then, eh?", McCowler asked. "Dirty, nasty stuff... Why the curiosity?"

"That doesn't concern you, McCowler.", Hardscape asked. "What concerns you is if you can do it."

"Ye' doubtin' me, lad?", McCowler asked, feeling insulted. "Sure can! What exactly ye' want from the spooky, scary place?"

"What you can find.", Hardscape answered. "A list of every project being run by the Dominion concerning the matter."

"Well, might be a bit difficult.", McCowler said. "I'd want some real reason why I'd risk me neck for ye'. People'd make questions, y'know."

"McCowler, truth is, I'm playing this one too close to the chest.", Hardscape answered. "I'm willing to pay anything you want for your service, and your silence."

"Anything?", McCowler asked, surprised. "Well, then, let's start with ten thousand, in advance."

"Done.", Hardscape readily said.

"Whoa, whoa, hold yer' horses, there, boss.", McCowler said. "Ten thousand, in advance, a shore leave package fer Styrling Resort when war's over, a glass of scotch from an elite issue, and the remainder paid when's done. Ninety thousand."

"_Now you're pushing, McCowler_!", Hardscape censored. "One hundred thousand, _for something simple_!? And an elite scotch and resort!? That's insulting!"

"I'll be riskin' me very neck, sir.", McCowler said. "It's Dominion most guarded information, filtering and firewalls more advanced than the ones in the Dominion common network, and no doubted programmed and controlled by Mengsk's very trusted Ghost people! People of the type whom likes to cut others heads off! It is not insulting, it's simple, yet _dangerous_!"

Hardscape took a deep breath.

"Alright, alright, I'll see what I can do.", Hardscape said. "But will you do it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not.", McCowler answered. "I'll need five days until I can come with everything and nothing."

"Sounds good to me.", Hardscape said. "When can you start?"

"Already started, lad.", McCowler answered, as he got up from the chair. "Ye sure ye wanna do this, Capt'n?"

"Why the question?", Hardscape asked.

"Bah, nothing important.", McCowler answered. "Just reminding something me father told me. Something that fits what ye want."

"What?", Hardscape asked, annoyed, resting his back on the chair.

"Careful where ye dig, son.", McCowler replied. "The deeper you dig the hole, odds ye'll find a corpse."

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"So, that person you got interested in talking to is a Colonel?", Izsha asked to Kerrigan, as she told her the whole story while she stood on her feet in the Nerve Center. "Interesting, no doubt..."

"Not as much as interesting as to why he was sent there.", Kerrigan said. "He's a command asset, and those you surely don't want to lose. So why that effort?"

"There are many possibilities.", Izsha answered. "The most probable was that Warfield was expecting the mission on that cave to be a walk in a park. He maybe thought the cavern was empty or that the local Hive Cluster was a weakly defended one. He must be feeling the pain of being proven so wrong, right now. Will you keep the Colonel?"

"There's not much of a choice, is there?", Kerrigan asked. "If this guy is close to Warfield's command chain, the information he has will be useful the most. I can't just waste him like that."

"I understand that, Kerrigan, but I'm talking about if you'll keep him when you get the information you want.", Izsha said. "If you'll do, remember, you have to walk him and feed him twice a day..."

"_Very funny, Izsha_.", Kerrigan answered, sarcastically. But then, a while passed as something went on her mind. "But actually... That's a thing I didn't ask myself. You're an infested Terran yourself, Izsha, that's a bit obvious by your... face. Tell me, how's it like?"

"I thought you experienced that as the Queen of Blades.", Izsha said. "Let's do this, you tell me how was it with you and I'll tell you how is it with everyone else."

"Well, I can't say much, then.", Kerrigan said. "All I could was see was dark. Real dark, to the point of being pitch black. The worse was the silence. I couldn't head anything but my own voice."

"That is somewhat the same that happens with every infested Terran.", Izsha said. "At least ones that were not freed or liberated forcefully, like myself, when the Xel'Naga artifact struck. From outside, true, an infested Terran might look like a puppet zombie, devoid of emotion or pity or other human trait, but inside, you can notice the suffering. The suffering of being driven mad in a cage so invisible and so thin, like air, that not even touching the bars is enough to drive one insane for years on end. With the passing of years you grow mad with the desperation to struggle, resisting the inevitable, or you ultimately resign. Either way, it's a battle already lost, before it even begins."

"Damn... Then it _is_ a torture, then, the infestation!", Kerrigan concluded. "What the hell can I do about it, then?"

"One thing you surely can't is reverse him back to a Terran.", Izsha said. "You do that and he's dead, and another infestation won't bring him back. That leaves only two options. Either you keep him, or you kill him."

"Kill him?", Kerrigan asked. "_Just like that_?"

"He was dead when you infested him.", Izsha said. "Killing him now would be more of a _reprieve_."

"Wouldn't it be _murder_ all the same?", Kerrigan asked. "Only this time it's worse, as he couldn't rest in peace the last time."

"Only you can figure if killing him is better than letting him live in suffering.", Izsha said, without any expression. "The other option is keeping him and having him try to overcome what happened to him. That's the harder option."

"He'd never forgive me.", Kerrigan said. "That is, if he retains his memories and such."

"Exactly.", Izsha said. "And unfortunately, it's all on you, Kerrigan. Me, I'd kill him."

"I can't make that kind of decision.", Kerrigan said.

"You'd have to, sooner or later, with him or not.", Izsha replied, staring at her in the eye. "And it seems you _can_ make a firm hand, given you limited Abathur's infestations."

"I had to do it, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, firmly. "You want me to kill people, fine, I can live with that, I had to ever since I was a child. But I won't let living people suffer what I suffered. The only other option, might I add, was banning _all and every_ infestation. You should be thanking me."

"And I suppose I can't have a say on this?", Izsha asked, narrowing her eyes. "I thought you agreed to be my Puppet Queen."

"I am. But, if you want to keep pulling me around, that's my only condition, Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "That's all I'm asking."

Izsha and Kerrigan stared at one another for a time.

"Fine.", Izsha said. "But it will cost the day-off I granted you before. So, tomorrow, _armed_ or _unarmed_, you'll head to get Za'gara, no questions and especially no complaints. Am I clear, or do I need to cut your strings off?"

Kerrigan simply looked at her.

"Thank you.", Kerrigan said.

"My Queen.", She then heard a voice behind her, belonging to Abathur. "I have the solution developed."

"That fast?", Kerrigan asked, surprised, turning around to face him. "I thought you said you required time."

"This evolution was more complicated than expected, but it is developed.", Abathur answered. "According to your request, it will allow you to unleash your psionic potential for lightning, while not radically altering your current physical condition."

"I thought that alone would take at least one day.", Kerrigan said.

"I also predicted such estimates, my Queen.", Abathur replied. "Fortunately, previous experiments you have performed with Terran psionics have allowed to access useful reference for the development. If you wish to apply the solution, you can proceed to the Evolution Pit at your discretion."

"Well, let's go, then.", Kerrigan said. "That is, if dear Izsha lets it."

Izsha simply looked at Kerrigan.

"Go on.", she said.

Kerrigan and Abathur then began to walk away, by the flesh-covered door of the Nerve Center.

"Just one thing, little girl.", Izsha called, as Kerrigan stopped her walk and looked at her. "What you just did, try and make a stand... It almost killed you now, Kerrigan. _Remember that_."

Listening to that, Kerrigan then walked away, as the 'door' closed.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And another chapter finished. Truth be told, now it'll be another chapter, the next one, before we finally get to battle over Za'gara, as people want so. I also had to settle the final parts of the events in Henderson, Hardscape, Hyperion and other arcs. The next chapter will be to 'arm' Kerrigan and brief her, as well as set up a sub-conflict as well, one I guess you'll figure out on your own.

This has so much it's plot twists as it has it's problems. The final part, especially, feels a bit rushed, in a certain POV. I won't deny, it was already taking too long and I had to finish it. It's also because I tried applying an idea yesterday concerning the Hyperion Cantina, but the character I introduced was another Nell Penny, an authoritarian one this time, and it didn't sound good. I'd also like to pay apologies to **Ragnarok,** I wanted to put what he wanted on the Cantina scene, but I couldn't. But, at least, I've given a glimpse of how things are going deep in and not it all is wine and roses.

Lasarra herself comes as a plot twist as much as a point of divergence, so much as was many things in this Fanfic, but said changes were announced since I began this Fanfic. You also noticed I also began an arc dedicated to Hardscape, as to help engross the interest and other things on this Fanfic, let's see how it goes as time passes.

So, until next chapter, because, honestly, I have nothing much to say. At least, other than wishing luck to **Blackhole1** and his sequel to '_Her Body's Plaything_', '_To Whatever End_'. I've seen the first chapter, and it's a small, but good start how it is, and I recommend you go read and follow that as well. I sure will.

Until then, folks.


	14. Chapter XII - Plans and Preparations

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XII - PLANS AND PREPARATIONS**

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _HARKONNEN_**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

The only sounds in that day, even in the mostly occupied courtyard of the_ Harkonnen_ fortress, were those of the environment outside, with lava bursting and running across the Hell-ish landscape, the hot wind current of that afternoon and the sad _Taps_ bugle song being played in the courtyard and transmitted by the PA system spread across the huge fortress. There was no machinery running, no engine of ships, there was not even talk. There was only the silence, shared by the dozens of saluting soldiers, officers, medics and mechanics lined in formation for the funeral procedure. A separate line of marksmen, formed of seven Ghosts from the Terran Dominion, stood with rifles in hand in preparation of the ancestral three-volley salute, a practice performed by humanity in homage of the military personnel lost in combat. On a corner, the banner of the Terran Dominion flew high, as Horace Warfield, on his CMC-300 suit, stood in the center podium, keeping his two eyes the single makeshift coffin, meant to represent not only his lost second-in-command, but also those whom were in his company during that battle in those caves. Behind Warfield, by his left side, lied Duncan McGrudd, whom now had become his new second-in-command. The right side of his behind was vacant at all.

His heart was filled not only with sorrow, but with guilt. It was _his_ fault that happened, and so early. He sent eighty-six men and women to their deaths, one of them being his Colonel. What was supposed to be something easy, perhaps too easy, had proven to be a massacre. Maybe another commanding officer should have been sent to those caverns. Maybe only a few men should have been sent. But none of this would do any good at all. There was no bringing back those men.

The bugle had then ceased it's song and all remained silent. The people in the courtyard saluted no longer.

"Gentlemen.", Warfield started, sounding deep regret. "Ladies. Soldiers. There are two kinds of mistakes. There are those we can forgive, and those beyond forgiving. The mistake that brought those eighty-six men and women before us today, the mistake I have committed, is of the second kind. Such loss, given by such a mistake, on the very first day of our mission to purge this Hell of a planet, brings questions concerning the competence of the commander responsible. I give no excuses, and I give no half-truths, I assume full responsibility for the actions that brought before us eighty-six souls, now gone, fallen in their duty to their oath. Their oath to the protection of humanity. Amongst them, was one of high-esteem, not only of value, but of trust. And he died by the very same way as his men did. By my hands. I can barely say more now, for guilt and anger choke my voice."

Warfield then turned to the firing squadron that held weapons in hand. "Gentlemen?", he asked, stepping aside and saluting.

"COMPANY!", one of the Ghosts roared. "TEN-HUT! PORT... ARM!"

The Ghosts then stood tightly, carrying their rifles.

"READY!", the Ghost roared again, as the others triggered their C-20A. "AIM! FIRE!"

The Ghosts then aimed their rifles upwards and to their front, firing a full volley with each fire command. It was repeated twice then, before the Ghosts rested their weapons and saluted. The coffin, filled with found dogtags of those lost, was then closed.

"COMPANY!", Warfield shouted, as all people stood tightly on their feet. "Dismissed."

The crowd than began to spread and disperse, as a small group of mechanics than began to approach the coffin, dragging it to the Dropship nearby. Warfield himself then turned to McGrudd.

"Are the spotters there, already?", Warfield asked.

"Yes, sir.", McGrudd answered. "They set up on a plateau nearby, they're keeping watch."

"Updates every five minutes, then.", Warfield ordered, coldly. "I don't care if the damn thing isn't doing anything at all."

The General then looked at the horizon, by the mountain where that Leviathan was.

"Enough playing Mister Nice Guy...", he mumbled.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

The walk to the Evolution Pit was mostly a quiet one. So much Kerrigan as Abathur have both been silent, none of them opening their _mouths_. Abathur only answered questions and related events, in a biologically-programmed obedience to hierarchy. Kerrigan, however, had been reflecting on what Izsha told her. It seemed too obvious it was a void menace, as she needed Kerrigan perhaps more than what she fathomed, but the way she spoke did not seem she'd care at all for the consequences. Kerrigan's 'decision' to limit infestations didn't seem to have had a good effect on Izsha, after all. Even more standing on the decision. Either Izsha had plans for the more _living_ Terrans she'd infest, or she was hoping Kerrigan would not matter with such things. Still, Kerrigan had made some considerable change, one the Zerg definitely wouldn't like. After all, changes were as much welcomed by some as were reviled by most.

And no doubt this would have to do concerning her future, when her crusade against the Dominion would be almost over. Izsha would definitely try something by then. As if the worry of keeping her eyes on the people on front of her weren't enough, she would have to watch out for the people behind her.

The fleshy door to the Evolution Pit then opened up, revealing the chamber itself, as well as the eggs and cocoons inside. There was only one or two Roaches traveling within it, this time, as well as a Drone passing by.

But even so, there didn't seem to be any changes, at all, in the Evolution Pit. That as much reassured as troubled Kerrigan a bit.

"Alright, Abathur.", Kerrigan said. "Where is this solution of yours?"

"It is here, my Queen.", Abathur answered.

"Well, where can I see it, then?", Kerrigan asked.

"I am afraid you will know where to look.", Abathur answered, cryptically. Dumbfounded, Kerrigan looked around the chamber before she looked back at Abathur.

"What do you mean with that?", she asked. "You're... You're saying the solution's _in you_?"

"Is something contrary to this?", Abathur asked.

"No, no, it's- It's nothing!", Kerrigan jumped, appalled. "I... Just thought you'd have it stored in a vial, or a syringe of a sort."

"You imply the utilization of instruments, my Queen.", Abathur said. "Zerg are created to perform their exact function and evolve on their own, creating their own chemical components as well as additional limbs or other necessary evolutions. Such is the case with myself. I am able to formulate evolutions that benefit my own physical condition, as well as store those within myself. In such case, instruments become unnecessary."

That brought about a shiver up Kerrigan's spine.

"And...", Kerrigan started, frowning her forehead. "There's no risk of infection, whatsoever?"

"My body produces bacteria meant to sterilize the chemical components, preventing unnecessary collateral effects.", Abathur answered. "So much inside my physical interior as in the limbs I utilize to inject the solution. One of which I will have to inject in you."

"Inject?", Kerrigan asked, her eyes widening in surprise as the looked at the creature's limbs. "_With that_?"

"A secondary alternative will take additional days to be performed.", Abathur answered. "By then, Izsha, as I have listened, will not wait."

Kerrigan had stopped since then, looking at the creature before her.

"Do you not wish your evolution?", Abathur asked in insistence. "Do you not wish to easily access your psionic potential?"

"Yes, I do, Abathur, but I didn't think it'd be _this_ way.", Kerrigan said, appalled. "What if something happens to me if I just... let you do it?"

"It will not.", Abathur reassured, deadpan. "All possibilities are considered before the evolution is made prepared for injection."

"I heard it a hundred times, from many people whom stitched syringes on me before the side-effects caught me shortly after.", Kerrigan argued.

"Terrans commit errors, my Queen.", Abathur said. "Zerg do not. Zerg cannot."

Kerrigan said nothing, for a moment, then.

"_Will it hurt_?", Kerrigan asked, the question accidentally coming from her mouth, like a scared child would always ask.

"If the evolution works, it will.", Abathur answered, straightforward. Kerrigan simply stared at him at the abject amount of truth she'd never expect from a Terran. She then closed her eyes and let out a sigh.

"I don't really have a choice, now, do I?", Kerrigan asked.

"You can choose to deny, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "However, given your current situation, this is not recommendable."

Kerrigan then looked below, to the flesh-ridden ground below her, thinking of the decision and the risk she'd have to take or not.

"The time is short, my Queen.", Abathur said. "A decision must be made."

A while had passed before she stopped looking at the ground and returned her gaze to Abathur.

"Alright, Abathur.", Kerrigan said. "Do it."

The shrimp-like creature then approached Kerrigan and she did not step back, as she knew there was a shred of trust this creature would not do anything other than the necessary. The several limbs had stretched and menacingly hovered by her left and right sides, distributed like the legs of a spider. Still, despite the adrenaline rushing through her body, she still did not move at all.

One such limb was crawling slowly by Kerrigan's left face cheek and then a bit below and behind, doubtlessly looking for a blood vein. The tip of the limb, that ran softly by the cheek, touching it with delicacy, frightened Kerrigan a bit as she tried looking at the limb.

Suddenly, the limb quickly pressed by the spot it found, drilling through the flesh, with the precision of a medical syringe, although the said 'syringe' was as large as a knife.

"**OWW!**", Kerrigan yelped in pain of the limb that perforated her. As it entered, it began letting out it's liquid content before releasing it, leaving a small cut mark that let out some blood before the tissue began to repair itself and close the gap shut. Still, the pain remained for some time before it began to numb itself.

Kerrigan had then been looking around as Abathur's limbs retracted and returned to his body. Still, she felt nothing at all, seeing apparently fine. There was no fever, to sign of exhaust, no distorted vision and her audition was crystal.

"Is that it?", Kerrigan asked, dumbfounded. "Just this?"

"No.", Abathur answered. "Wait."

"Wait for- **GAH!**", Kerrigan started, but yelped in pain again when something struck her. _Something big_.

A surge of pain rippled through her body, with the intensity of a thousand swords cutting through her and the speed of a bullet fired by the pistol of that Reaper whom wounded her, enough to make her immediately fall on the ground. She then began spasming, tremoring and debating herself in complete pain on that ground as she tried to hold her screams, but the pain was simply too much, even for one as supposedly strong as her. Not even the most abusive and most painful physical torture ever conceived by Man could compare to the amount of pain Kerrigan was suffering inside her body, as not only she could feel the intensity of it, but also she could, at times, feel her organs twitching and convulsing inside as well, moving like a child playing with his food. She began to feel her air slowly fading off, preventing her from breathing, and the pain was exhausting her air supply too quickly.

Her temperature increased in a gradual level, in a fever also too high for Terran standards. All the meanwhile, Abathur had been simply standing there, watching the entire scene, without any expression at all. The solution was behaving exactly as it was intended to, performing the necessary adaptations inside Kerrigan's physical form, not outside. Not even the pain she was experiencing as she debated on high fever and pain on the floor, or even her eyes that began to glow in self-preservation instinct made Abathur twitch or recoil in response.

Kerrigan's eye pupils began to glow in fierce golden yellow, but the glow did not limit to the pupils as it began to spread to the remainder of the eyes, burning with the fury and intensity of young yellow stars. To the sides and corner of the eyes, flesh began to tear apart in small bits, some of which rippled like small lined cracks, as the glow began leaking from those cracks, forming light veins of a sort on the sides of her face and the space between her eyes, above the nose and below the forehead.

Kerrigan then let out a loud, long roar of pain as it continued for a few moments, and then, as suddenly as it came... It left.

Her traumatized body continued spasming and tremoring for a moment as she started breathing heavily, gasping as she acquired as much air as she could get, like a person whom almost drowned took a deep breath in relief. Her eyes were bloodshot wide and her expression was one of complete agony that was slowly fading. The glow in her eyes began to fade out, returning to her seemingly intact eyes as the cracks that once leaked the furious yellow light began to heal themselves quickly. She tried getting on her feet, but stopped when she was on all fours as she tried to recover from the incredibly painful experience. Shortly after then, she slowly got on her feet as she saw Abathur again, still where he was even after all that.

"That's the pain you were talking about?", Kerrigan asked, her voice weak.

"Yes.", Abathur said. "Otherwise, the evolution would not be effective. It would not even be performed."

"_It really has to be like this_?", Kerrigan asked, angry.

"It is necessary.", Abathur answered, deadpan. "This evolution has stretched it's physical and psionic tolerance to it's limits, so the limits could be expanded, new nerves and muscles created as unused ones were stimulated to awake."

"What are you talking about?", Kerrigan asked, starting then to look at her body, from her legs and feet to her belly and then her arms, whom seemingly... Did not have any changes at all. No new spikes, tendrils or tentacles were added, meaning she was practically the same as before.

"The changes resulted from your evolution are internal.", Abathur said, as he noticed Kerrigan looking at her own body. "There are no external physical changes, as you requested. But, as you requested as well, the expansion of tolerance limits in physical and psionic areas will allow you to access additional psionic potential, allowing you to fire the 'lightning' you desire. However, there are two things that you must be informed of."

"Why do I get the feeling they're bad news?", Kerrigan asked.

"These are not 'bad news', my Queen, these are news concerning some changes within you.", Abathur said. "The first is that, as your psionic limitations were diminished, so were your physical ones, and this alters your biological condition to a level beyond human standards. You will be able to move as faster and even strike as stronger in unarmed combat. Your physical disposition will be considerably larger. As your regeneration rate will be increased."

"What do you mean with that?", Kerrigan asked. "Now I'm literally a _super-soldier_?"

Abathur remained silent. Kerrigan could see he didn't quite catch it.

"Never mind.", Kerrigan said, shaking her head. "What of the second news?"

"This may initially cause a negative psychological reaction, my Queen.", Abathur warned.

"In other words, _it's a bad news_.", Kerrigan concluded, sarcastically and with a bit of irony. "What is it?"

"In order to enhance and access your complete psionic potential, a secondary foreign organ had to be added.", Abathur answered. "You are now a host to a small Zerg symbiont, latched by the cervical vertebrae-"

"Whoa, **WHOA!**", Kerrigan interrupted, shocked, as her eyes widened. "You're telling me now I got a bug!? IN ME!?"

"A necessary addition, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"Well, how do you pull it out, then?", Kerrigan asked, angry.

"You cannot.", Abathur answered. "Otherwise the areas that allow you to access your psionic potential will never be accessed again."

"Oh, and NOW you tell me I'm gonna have to live with a little monster inside my head!?", Kerrigan asked, increasingly furious. "_Thank you so much, Abathur!_"

"Such information, as I stated, would deliver a negative psychological reaction.", Abathur said. "It would even increase stimulation for denial of this necessary evolution. The omission of information was required."

"In other words, either you kept shut about that or I wouldn't do it at all?", Kerrigan asked, angry, raising her arms in disbelief as she turned her back on Abathur. "And now I got a small monster inside my head, just itching to burst out like in that movie! Nice going, Kerrigan, look where trusting Zerg has got you!"

Both have remained quiet for a small period of time before Abathur broke the silence.

"In a correction, the symbiont is not inside your head.", Abathur said. "As I have stated, it is latched to your cervical vertebrae. It connects to the Occipital lobe of your cerebral cortex, sending, storing and dispersing psionic energy, allowing you to access additional areas of your psionic potential."

"Yeah, but these symbionts of yours are like the ones you use when you infest Terrans, don't you!?", Kerrigan asked, turning around to face him and calming her anger down a bit as she crossed her arms.

"This symbiont was designed different than others.", Abathur answered. "It's only function is to access psionic nerves of your cerebral cortex. It does not possess enhancement abilities of it's own, nor it cannot communicate or make the host more malleable. It is subservient to the host."

"And what it if turns on me, maybe on a streak of it's own?", Kerrigan asked, facing him.

"It will not.", Abathur answered. "The symbiont was planted by the time the solution was injected. It has grown while the evolution performed the necessary modifications. It has adapted to be in harmony with your physical condition. Attacking your form would destabilize such harmony, and the symbiont itself would be affected as well."

"So it won't do anything to me, at all?", Kerrigan asked, nervous. "_How can you be sure of this_?"

"I am not.", Abathur said. "I only developed the symbiont. In case it begins to behave erratically in a later date, I will have a solution or two prepared."

"And will _these_ be sure to be painful?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically.

"That solution performed extensive augmentations to your physical form, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "These other solutions are minimal, covering only one important area or not."

"_Glad to hear it..._", Kerrigan said, with some irony, letting out a sigh. "Now, the more important question: Will it work? Will it be worth all that trouble?"

"If you would like to experiment, you can do so now.", Abathur answered.

Kerrigan then paused for a moment.

"No, I'll try and rest a few more minutes, especially after this.", Kerrigan said. "Guess what I went through about covers a week."

"If you desire so, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"What of Richter?", Kerrigan asked. "How is he?"

"Still in recovery.", Abathur said.

"I'll come back later, then.", Kerrigan said, as she already turned around to leave the chamber. Breathing in relief of the pain suffered as well as a sigh of disappointment.

It was a small step. Still it was a step. She could feel it. It always began like that.

She could feel she was starting to become a monster, all over again.

She had one inside her.

Harmless, but a monster nevertheless.

* * *

_Outside..._

The march had been rough and long, and especially tiresome, given it was an uphill one. The heat was oppressive, the land and air were rough and hot as well. But the worse was the climbing to allow a better vision of that creature they were supposed to keep an eye on, per Warfield's orders. The reason were those damn backpacks, whom were weighting heavy with the communication and surveillance equipment they had to bring. They didn't remember doing something that hard, not even during their days in the Ghost Program.

Still, orders were orders, and, like every soldier freaking knew, Operatives 51721.3 and 46388.2, knew what disobeying them meant. Especially in a place like this. However, given nothing had hit them so far.

Operative 51721.3, Randall Hetfield, was like the many other Ghosts whom were 'recruited' by the Confederacy so his powers could be used for a said greater good. He was practically seven years old when they dragged him from his family, from mother, father and his sister. Given his father's debts to government taxes, it was told that a deal was made. In exchange for avoiding eviction, Randall was given. Being told to obey in everything they told, Randall had passed through the torture of training and mental conditioning in hopes he one day could see his family again. One year later, he was given the bad news. His family had died as a result of a 'sudden epidemic' that caught his whole family. But that was the truth, however, with the slight difference the epidemic was different. It was an epidemic of silencer-fired rounds by a Confederate cleaning team, that strangely left a hole in each of their heads, before they were collected and denoted by the government as missing. Without home or family to return to, Hetfield had remained in the Confederacy's service since.

Pretty much the same occurred with Operative 46388.2, McCoy Pratcher, with the very difference his parents were murdered earlier by their neighbor, a drug addict whom began robbing his neighborhood to sustain his addiction. By the night of their murder, McCoy was since then transferred to an orphanage, where his first psionic talents had drawn the attention of a Wrangler, an employee of the Ghost Program with minor psionic powers, which he used to track other telepaths. Since then, he was drafted into the Ghost Program, where he first was submitted to a memory wipe, pretty much like the colleague besides him.

Since then, they both had been in service, even when the Dominion of Arcturus Mengsk replaced the Confederacy of the Old Families. A service that brought them to that place, now.

"Shit!", McCoy shouted as a rock he was supporting his right hand into had cracked open then burst out, almost making the Ghost fall down.

"You're okay?", Hetfield asked, looking at him.

"Freaking planet is a deathtrap, Rand!", McCoy answered, climbing another rock. "If it's not the Zerg in here, it's anything else!"

Suddenly, a gigantic growl sound was heard, with enough strength to make the rock Hetfield and McCoy held into tremble. They were forced to stop, the weight of the backpacks hammering down on their strength, as long as the tremor continued. A while passed until the growl ceased and the tremor along with it.

"Warfield is mad.", Hetfield commented, stressed, resuming the climbing. "Sending us here to look on that _thing_. Why the hell won't he just nuke it!?"

"And you think I know?", McCoy asked. "Son of a bitch doesn't tell much of the reasons, as far as I know."

Hetfield simply grunted and continued the climb to the rock that'd give that vantage point to keep an eye on that giant Zerg Warfield was so worried about.

So worried to the point of sending two Ghosts to their supposed deaths.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Her sights have extended from out the mouth of the gigantic Zerg beast above her and into the ashworld horizon, the eternal dawn or dusk lightning the harsh ground and it's lava streams, spikes, rocks, even the Terran constructs in the plateau nearby. She stood there, looking at it for hours, as her mind reminded and reviewed the recent memories of what took place only moments ago.

A first step was given. Her first step. Not one of collaboration, she already had given about a hundred of those. This first step was the complete opposite of that she'd expect of her. A step of _defiance_. And it all began with that decision. Her decision to limit infestation to dead people, dead people in the military, was as noble as _absurd_ and pathetic. Wouldn't she still get in her thick skull that _nothing_ of this would clean her, redeem or whatever the hell she wanted!? They would still paint a bullseye on her, _no matter what_! This would only contribute to a personal, selfish self-redemption, as well as to diminish the full potential of the Zerg. Kerrigan only forgot to notice she was in war with the Dominion. And, as the old saying went, especially for Zerg, all is fair in love and war. There was no honor, no chance for redemption in killing people, especially for one whose hands were soaked in the blood of millions. She _was_ a monster, nevertheless. _So why not to accept it!?_

Izsha shook her head, putting those thoughts aside as she then took a deep breath with mouth and then closed her eyes. Without her seeing, her hair tentacles had approached her, each tip touching a section of the head. It was time to do it again, like _all_ those times. What began as a pre-programmed command by the fallen Queen of Blades eventually turned into a routine once she came to regain her free will, when that alien trinket unleashed it's power. Each memory, each plan, each strategy, all being blocked and locked, like it's usually done when closing a vault with it's contents inside. Except it was being done regularly, memory by memory, brick by brick. One at a time, she seemed to build a literal castle of locked memories. Normally, it'd be just usual routine, but the latest days have proven that this was necessary as well. Izsha couldn't risk anything now, with Kerrigan aboard. What if she read through her mind and discovered her intentions after the war?

Or worse, what if she searched her mind and found out... _about him_?

Her eyes tightened while shut as that procedure ran it's course, putting her concentration on the matter ahead. Then, after a while, the tentacles backed off and returned to their previous position as Izsha took another deep breath as she opened her dark eyes. Only this time, a purple glow that was slowly diminishing took the place of the brown pupils as some purple-ish steam came out of them as well. The glow eventually died off, returning Izsha's eyes to normal.

She then resumed her look on the horizon before her, returning her thoughts concerning Kerrigan's recent behavior, only though it was one and only time. Perhaps, while being imbecile, it was best not to mess with her 'benefactress', despite giving that warning. A leash would have to be put, and soon. And now, if Abathur's solution had run it's errand, Kerrigan was more dangerous now. She'd have to revise her memories again and fortify her mental strength even further.

As of then, Izsha knew was stepping by a very thin line, even though she had no feet. But there was little choice, given there were two abysses to fall. Either she'd die, but getting what she wanted, or the other way around. The only choice now was to thread the line to the other side, where Izsha could as easily fall with the wrong step as well as the line could break.

Izsha had made her mind then. She'd let that one pass. Better to avoid going so soon to the end of the party then to risk the guest crashing it. She then closed her eyes again as the tentacles, again, began to touch her head. Better to start the revision process and get it done with. Avoid the risks.

Still, even though she was concentrating, something told her something. A feeling of her.

Something that what happened was the first... but it'd surely not be the _only_ one.

Or the last...

* * *

**HYPERION ACCESS HALL D**

A repeated echo boomed across the empty corridor of the vessel, like an accelerated heart beat, as cold, hard steps made their march across. Cold, hard steps belonging, no doubt, to a pair of shoes shining high with the cleanliness it was put on them. No other pair of shoes or boots then his was walking across that corridor. That unorganized, undisciplined ship 'crew', if those lazy slobs could be called that, must have been still in the Cantina, spending liquor and beverage childishly while they could have been working the things most important: Training, qualification, discipline and, the most needed right now, the cleaning of this vessel. By the corridor alone, he could see the deplorable state of the walls, floor and ceiling. The touch alone would be enough for one to easily get sick with tetanus.

Not only this, but never in his years of successful career serving the Dominion he's seen such an enormous lack of military discipline, especially from the pirate Marines aboard. They answered what they wanted, lacked respect even for their own officers, and rarely practiced or exercised their physical shape. One, in particular, was now overweight for military standards. The rest spent more time in the Cantina than in the shooting galleries, whom had even spider webbing, something impossible in a ship, given how empty and long unused it was. These were not soldiers. Soldiers were dedicated to their work and their oath to protect others. These were rather ramblers and troublemakers with guns, like farm rednecks of the past headed to a turf war.

He was none of that. He was a soldier. He was more than just a soldier, however. He was responsible for that which was more important. He was responsible for he whom would next wear the crown of Emperor of the Dominion, and, as such, this required a level commitment above and beyond that expected by common men. A commitment he and his soldiers strived at all times to meet.

From a first look, everyone, from a civilian to a soldier to a hardened General, could tell Field Captain Isaac Malachi wasn't a normal person. He was simply too committed to being a soldier, too loyal and too sure of a single, positive opinion of the Dominion, one that, at times, was unbearable. But only a select few, including the Emperor, knew the why and the how. Before then, Malachi was like any other resocialized person, dragged from jail shortly after being arrested for multiple armed robberies, two of which had took lives. The first belonged to a convenience store owner at a gas station, Malachi's first pull. The second was a couple that tried to react. But, other than those, there were no casualties at all, although the victims were beaten unconscious to give Malachi time to run off. By the time of his arrest, thanks to a testimony of one of the victims who followed him, he was meant to be sent to the great meat grinder that the fields of war against the Zerg were, and thus feed the great maw of death.

Instead he was picked by fate, for something different. Better, or worse, yet, he was picked by Emperor Arcturus Mengsk. The resocialization procedure had changed him completely, a rare success. He excelled in boot camp and field excellence in both command and combat, attaining, by merit, the rank of Sergeant, the farthest rank someone resocialized had reached, so far. In the end, Malachi was much a victim of fate as a victim as of his own, pre-fabricated, 'success'. He was also victim of two separate procedures, a memory wipe and yet a second resocialization, meant for him to be fully tamed, and thus, be delivered into the personal guard of the Emperor's son. He was programmed, like a robot, to protect and keep watch over his son, no matter the cost and what happened, even if he died.

Of course, Mengsk never accounted for Valerian to betray him. Neither did Malachi, and the programming on his mind still told to guard him. Something as oppressive as inevitable, as losing your mind to something that makes you a machine of flesh, gripped him tightly.

The door before Malachi stopped by had opened then, revealing a very dark room, but surrounded with people, all standing before a simple table, lightened by a single, weak lamp. There were people of most types, not only the guards he knew and commanded. He could see one or two crew members of the late _Bucephalus_, wearing their mechanic monkey suits, as well as regular Marines under the command of Sergeant Reamer, whom stood by the right corner of that table. One ship officer or two, one of which was female, were also present.

So was the Crown Prince, by the center of the room, both hands on that table.

"You're late, Malachi.", Valerian said, looking at him.

"I have had discipline issues with one of my men, Your Highness.", Malachi said in return. "I had to do it."

"Has anyone followed you?", Valerian asked. "It's been hard waiting for a chance for their chief mechanic to be off my tail."

"Negative, sir.", Malachi answered. "Apparently, my opinions concerning the lack of proficiency on this ship have ensured no one would want to follow me."

"Well, try not to push it, Malachi.", Valerian warned. "Otherwise, we'll be thrown off the ship and we'll have nowhere to go. Understand?"

"Yes, sir.", Malachi answered.

"Good.", Valerian said, starting then to look at the people around. "I summoned you for a reason. I'd tell the why, before you, here and now, but the word spreads fast around this ship, so you must know where the captain of this ship has left to and why."

"The question now is, _what can we do about it_?"

* * *

**HYPERION HANGAR BAY 12**

It was a bit more as cold than what he expected, but Matt Horner didn't mind as well. The explanation was that the bridge of the _Hyperion_ was more warmer, and he spent almost the entire day in it. The bridge was more smaller and had an air conditioning system meant to keep the officers within all the more cozy and warm, while the hangar where he now stood had none of that. He still could see the commotion before him as both Dominion and Raider crewmembers worked at the place, but he knew, judging by some faces he saw, that tensions were high. He already had to calm down a fire on the Hyperion laboratory after a bickering concerning the _Bucephalus_ laboratory crew and the chief scientist, Stetmann, concerning the research materials aboard.

He knew things were going ugly on his ship. And his absence on the _Hyperion_ would only contribute to a wild fire left unattended. Still, he had his priorities, and those were on that planet. It was the oath the Raiders had, to accomplish that the Dominion of Mengsk did not. To protect those people whom were now helpless down there, even if the aggressors hadn't made their move... Yet.

He approached the black Dropship before him, whose cargo bay was open, and with a crew of four Marines inside. Three of those Marines were sit by the side seats while the single one, Sergeant White, was on his feet, waiting for him.

"Captain?", White asked.

"Let's do this.", Horner said, embarking.

The cargo bay doors then lifted and closed, sealing and pressurizing the cargo bay and the people inside as the rocket engines blown up to life, letting out fire and missile propellant steam as the ship began to lift off, turn around and head to the energy screen shielding the Hangar bay from the vacuum outside.

As it crossed the energy barrier, the Dropship began to pick up speed and head to the lush planet before it.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Everything in him hurt. He was in constant pain. Both inside and out.

So much body parts that had been radically altered as limbs he came to use for the first time _ached_ with such an amount of hurt it made him almost let out a tear. Still, he felt no sorrow at all. He could not. Not after that. He took a while to firstly use his eyes and see the monstrous environment around him. As the monstrosity in him as well. He could see the thick, grown, dark pink flesh enveloping him and his arms, shielded in carapace as his left hand bore a hand no longer, but a large twin claw, with the bone-white tip so thick it could pierce through the heaviest Neosteel door known to man. He could also see his right hand, enveloped in tentacles and a pustule on his pink flesh cover, although this one had no claws and resembled his old, human hand, enveloped in the metal glove of his once shining armor.

It was ever since then he knew what he came to be. But he remembered he had died. But, either as a masterstroke of fate or pure, bad luck, he'd returned as the thing he fought the most against, in a way so literal not even Nietzsche could describe with _ease._ There could not be a Hell worse than returning, being dragged away from the arms of the lady with a scythe, becoming a monster.

He was Clancy Richter no longer. Now he was something different. Something wretched... Strong, true, but wretched.

Still, he felt nothing. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He wanted to scream, but he was too weak for that. He wanted to tear his flesh off or even impale himself with his twin claws he's now got, but something prevented him from doing it time and again. All he could feel was the pain of his newfound form.

Of course, that was outside. Inside, his mind screamed a bloodcurdling roar that lasted until the throat went sore and bled. One of agony, despair and ultimate defeat. But it would not stop. It would never stop.

But then, he began to hear a sound so slight, yet so loud, as it echoed with the resonance of an empty mansion room. His sight was blurred, yet crisp at the same time. That's when a figure approached him. The same figure he's seen slithering about for a couple of times, whom both stopped at both times to look at him for a while. The same figure whom resembled a shrimp of some sort, although limbs extended from him. The figure that was now looking at him again.

"What is your condition?", the figure asked, coldly.

Richter said nothing, only remaining silent. It was the same question, over and over and over again. But the answer would not come.

"What is your condition?", the figure asked again. "Are you functional?"

Richter continued to be silent. The figure, knowing it'd have no answers, then turned around to went on his way.

"You.", Richter said, slowly and with his voice deformed. That figure, having it's attention drawn, then stopped and turned around to look at the former Colonel again.

Both stared for sometime before Richter broke it again.

"You.", Richter said, slowly and in pain. "What?"

"Abathur.", the figure answered, as it approached Richter.

"Where?", Richter asked.

"Leviathan.", the figure, 'Abathur', as it called itself, answered.

"What?", Richter asked. "Happened?"

"Evolution.", answered Abathur. "Assimilation."

"Why?", Richter answered.

"Information.", Abathur answered, plainly. "Important."

"Dead?", Richter asked.

"Was.", Abathur said. "You were reanimated."

"Why?", Richter asked.

"Important.", Abathur said. "For the Queen."

"Kerrigan?", Richter asked, in pain.

"Queen.", Abathur answered.

"No!", Richter attempted a scream, yet it was still too weak and exhausted in pain. "Can... not... be."

"Must be.", Abathur answered.

"Please...", Richter said, then. "Kill me."

"No.", Abathur said.

"Why?", Richter said.

"Important.", Abathur said.

Richter had said nothing since then and stared at Abathur for a long time. His breathing was heavy, yet exhausted at the same time. Abathur then slithered backwards.

"You must wait.", Abathur said. "And rest. The Queen shall see you soon."

With this, Abathur then turned around and left, leaving Richter to his own pain.

Both the pain on his body... And the pain he'd now have to serve the Queen Bitch of the Universe.

* * *

_Outside..._

"_Man, those things store Zerg inside_?", Hetfield asked, surprised, as he looked at the scene by his binocular set, lying down on that warm, rough surface by the rock he and his colleague had just climbed.

"That's not good.", McCoy answered behind him, as he was working in getting the equipment working while his buddy watched it wall.

The head of the gigantic, titan-sized Zerg monster he was looking into was enough to fill the space of a Command Center alone. Two massive tusk-like bones stood besides the insectile head, doubtless it's jaws, as the beast remained with it's open mouth, allowing the hot air of Char to warm up and even dry the interiors of the mouth. And the beast didn't seem to be bothered at all, not even at the prospect of the several, small Zerg, like Zerglings, Roaches and Hydralisks coming outside of it.

The top rock, itself, was pretty much exposed, yet surrounded left and right by two towering spikes, forming a natural crab claw that covered them, to a point, from aerial reconnaissance. Both backpacks were off and on the ground, open, allowing both to rest their backs. The equipment, at best, contained a minimum of water and food supplies for a three-day stakeout and most equipment necessary for surveillance, like a small, compact radar meant for establishing contact and satellite feed, a small photographic camera as well as a video one, meant for recording visual evidence. A number of bugs and wires for covert audio surveillance were also inside the backpacks, but none of those would be used. None of them had the amount of courage to approach something big like that.

"What of the commotion down there, Het?", McCoy asked. "How's it going?"

"Can't honestly tell exactly, Mac, but one sure thing is that they ain't fighting one another.", Hetfield answered. "None of them are feral. They're just walking on around, real smooth and calm. It's even like they're guarding this damn monster."

"That's _definitely_ not good.", McCoy concluded. "This means they're on a leash."

"You think they might have something to do with that fiasco on the cave?", Hetfield asked.

"Right now, by what you told me, I have every reason to believe it's possible.", McCoy answered.

"Whoa, hey!", Hetfield suddenly called, McCoy having diverted his attention from setting up that small radar dish. "Got something different, by the thing's mouth! Looks like... _a woman_!"

"_A woman_!?", McCoy asked, surprised, hastily approaching Hetfield, then. "It's not her, is she?"

"No, it's another.", Hetfield said, letting down his binoculars. "More alien. By the left corner of the mouth, like if it's always hanging there."

Hetfield then handed his binoculars to McCoy, whom picked them up and saw in the direction Hetfield pointed. The image, behind two Zerglings whom were still, showed a being neither him nor his colleague had ever seen. A snake like figure, but with humanoid features above it's upper waist, like breasts, even though flat ones, arms that were constantly crossed and even four tentacles that seemed more like hair. The face, however, being irrevocably of a human female, except for the lack of a nose, was what worried the most.

"Who the hell is that?", mumbled McCoy, nervous.

"I'm more concerned on _what the hell_ she is.", Hetfield commented.

"She seems to be hanging by the lower snaky thingy, whatever that is...", McCoy said, analyzing. "Think it's some sort of Adjutant?"

"I don't know, but if it is, it's a first.", Hetfield said. "I thought the Zerg didn't use these type of things."

"Me too.", McCoy agreed, always remembering the Zerg didn't need the robotic adjutants the Dominion and other Terran factions utilized for assistance with battlefield data filtering and additional warnings. The Adjudant, many times, reminded a female humanoid robot, with a vast amount of cables and wires strapped by a primary computer that utilized satellite feed, live field recording and an available database to filter and process information, making it available for a quick, brief assessment to battlefield commanders and ship captains. "But, the way she's looking at things, it seems like she's the head of those things.", McCoy added further.

"No kidding.", Hetfield commented. "And I bet it's one of that bitch Kerrigan's summer projects."

"Keep on looking, Het.", McCoy said, letting down the binoculars, handing them back to Hetfield. "I'll ready up the camera."

* * *

_Inside..._

It's been some time since Kerrigan had then looked by the new egg, set before her, just like before. Only this time, she wasn't concentrating herself. That'd come shortly. Now, she was considering what brought her to this and if it'd be worth it. More than everything, she was trying to accept now she had a Zerg being within her. Her right hand had been massaging and searching the back of her neck for bumps, something hard or that made relevant to an open eye. Still, she found nothing. Her neck's back had been the same as it was. That meant it didn't grown yet, or it wouldn't grow at all. Still, she was worried, because she wasn't sure of it. Abathur said it wouldn't change or do anything, but her trust in him injecting that solution had done this to her. She damned herself. She should've tried harder. Maybe if she concentrated, attempted to break the limits, she wouldn't need that solution at all.

Her body was well rested and she felt like if she could fight a whole battle by herself, all day long. She looked and examined her body, beneath the skimpy environment suit, for new muscles or any alterations at all, but so far she found none. Her skin, her eyes, her ears, her hands and feet, she could feel it was all the same it was. That was some good news at least.

"The Terran Richter has progressed on his recovery.", Kerrigan heard a voice to his left, belonging to her 'benefactor'. "We have just effected a non-psionic conversation. Still, sentence formation and word processing speed are not effective. He will still need rest."

"Good.", Kerrigan said, coldly and bitterly. Abathur then turned and noticed the new egg, seemingly in a pristine condition.

"Judging by the intact state of this egg, I can presume the solution was not successful.", Abathur said.

"I haven't even _started_, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, stressed. "I'm still too busy trying to accept that _science experiment_ you just grew up on me."

"As I have said, my Queen, the formation of the symbiont was necessary.", Abathur replied. "A secondary solution would take much longer."

"Well, at least, if Izsha sent me, I'd have stalled until you came up with something.", Kerrigan said, looking at him.

"Highly improbable.", Abathur said. "Your current condition would leave you vulnerable."

"You just don't understand the concept that people want still try and be as more human as possible, do you, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically.

"My concern is the evolution and complete functionality of the Swarm, be it in one being or an entire strain.", Abathur said. "Concerns of humanity would only disturb my efforts in my purpose."

"Why I'm not surprised?", Kerrigan asked. "You're like a mad doctor whom cuts the living man open just so you can see how he works inside."

"Anatomy and pathology knowledge are, at many times, constructed by performing this operation.", Abathur said. "This is not done out of lack of moral concepts, but rather of necessity. The knowledge extracted then becomes beneficial to most."

"What of the poor guy, himself?", Kerrigan asked. "Never thought he'd want that, Abathur? Never thought he's a human being, with needs as much similar as our own? Never thought he wouldn't ever need to live and wished it was someone else but him?"

"I cannot understand, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "I am not human. I am Zerg. I do not think individually, I think collectively. With the necessities of many, what is the necessity of one, in comparison? Many times, the need to preserve many often demands the sacrifice of one individual."

"_One like me?_", Kerrigan asked. "I am an individual, after all."

"Yet, my Queen, you are enlightened on such concerns.", Abathur said. "You understand the sacrifice required for the advancement of most societies."

"_But that doesn't mean I have to like it_.", Kerrigan said. "That's why we Terrans don't do this, because that makes us human."

"You reject your evolution?", Abathur asked.

"If it costs someone else's life, we do.", Kerrigan said.

"Then answer me this, my Queen.", Abathur started. "Is it human to live a life of deficiency, without even considering the possibility of maximizing your potential? Is it human to be born with a deficiency, like the lack of a single organ or limb, without the possibility of recovering or allowing regeneration? Is it human that the lowest strain in your social hierarchy to be deprived to a survival of self-sustenance, while the highest strains can be permitted all possibilities of evolution?"

"I don't know.", Kerrigan answered. "But what I know it's not human is you trying to turn them into _monsters_."

"The Terran concept of monster defines a being devoid of emotion, left with only the basic, primal instinct, with little to no control.", Abathur replied. "The Zerg only perform evolutions to increase the maximum proficiency of one's biological or psionic standards. As such evolutions also allow the betterment of one psychological standards, replacing qualities considered compromising and inadequate, in favor of a more enlightened concept. Therefore, evolution must never be denied, or commercialized for material profit, if it will benefit most of society."

"As it will benefit me?", Kerrigan said. "We Terrans have this concept, that with each small thing we do concerning these 'sacrifices' is just a small step on a road to our own damnation. Like what you did to me, Abathur. I'm risking my humanity and my human self just for a little bit of power. What will come next, then?"

"What often determines the condemnation of an evolved being, one with psionic potential, is not the power itself, but rather how it is utilized.", Abathur said. "Many times, it is the psychological restraint whom works better than a biological one."

"Yes, well, there were many whom were granted something greater than themselves and fell along the line of monsters.", Kerrigan argued back. "That's where that saying that _power corrupts_ comes from."

"You accepted one level of evolution out of necessity for self-defense, not leisure.", Abathur answered. "As your concerns of said 'corruption' are unfounded. You, my Queen, have an intensive, internal psychological need to remain as close to Terran as possible, to the point of resisting to achieve your maximum potential as well as restricting the criteria for infestation. True corruption would come from one whom not only uses it's power liberally, but abuses it as well. You are strong in your psychological restraint, even enough to resist after one biological restraint was removed. Perhaps the reason you remain in fear of such a restraint removed is your lack of confidence in your ability to show restraint."

"That confidence can become arrogance as well, Abathur.", Kerrigan said.

"Arrogance denotes an increasing amount of confidence, even though his potential is seemingly limited and his options and resources exhausting.", Abathur said. "What you currently perform in behavior is no arrogance, my Queen."

"_That's reassuring..._", Kerrigan said, stepping a bit forward then. "Alright, doctor 'Zergenstein', you might want to step back a bit for this one."

Obeying her command, Abathur then backed off a bit as Kerrigan took a deep breath and focused her eyes on the egg before her, concentrating her psionics. She then raised her right hand as her eye pupils went on her traditional fierce yellow glow, in preparation for what would come ahead. Her mind went slightly numb as she recoiled her right hand a bit, took a bit of wait, then unleashed on the egg.

This time however, contrary than what would be expected, a small, perhaps a medium spark fired out of her hand and hit the egg. As, this time, Kerrigan felt little to no strain or fever at all, just feeling some tickle in her hand. Still she did not smirk, as she knew now it worked.

Now, it only needed to be trained.

Returning her concentration, she then aimed her right hand again, recoiled it a bit, reuniting more concentration, to then unleash it. It was when the lightning came out in it's full force and struck the egg, whom now began to move itself in pain as a reaction to the shock it took. Only then she allowed herself a smile.

"Let's get to work.", Kerrigan said to herself, raising her right arm again, and began practicing with it.

Minutes have passed by then, as Kerrigan began to concentrate and train herself with her new 'weapon'. Her right arm was suffering a little bit of exhaust, but it was something she could now handle. Her lightning came out strong, consistent and continued, although from time to time she had to pause a bit to allow some small rest for the arm. At one time, she unleashed her lightning that came out as strong and then, one second later, it came off, as she stopped focusing. By then she had begun to learn about her newfound power, that she could unleash as much as a quick, yet deadly burst as much as a continued one, that still delivered the same type of damage. Something that could come in hand, especially against multiple opponents.

But then she looked at her left hand and wondered if it worked the same. She then lowered her right arm and raised her left one, recoiled it and released it with the same concentration she had with her right one. Her confidence increased once she noticed the lightning coming out of the left hand as well, allowing her to practice even further, with her left hand as well as in other methods, like quickly striking first with her left hand and then her right hand and vice versa, then quick, three-strike combinations with short-controlled bursts, and also with both hands, in both short and long bursts.

However, with so many bursts and electricity running across, all good and fun things, like that training was, had to come to an end. So did with that egg, as it unfolded, revealing a heavily deformed Zerg whom came out of it, all convulsing and spasming as it tried to slither on the ground. Kerrigan widened her eyes on the scene as the creature kept on moving, spasming, and convulsing until it could no more.

"Damn.", Kerrigan said, appalled at the scene before her. "Now I felt sorry for him..."

"A contradictory information, given you requested an egg for this experiment.", Abathur said.

"Yeah, but I thought nothing would happen to the egg.", Kerrigan said, in a slightly irresponsible guilt tone.

"The carapace of a Zerg egg is the more resilient, my Queen, but it is not impervious.", Abathur said. "Especially concerning psionics. Many eggs and cocoons, unhatched, were lost due to the psionic efforts of the Protoss alone."

"Good to know.", Kerrigan said, still looking the egg carcass before her. "Will have to remind to bring a bullseye, next time. Still, now it wasn't that bad."

"_Not bad, indeed_...", Kerrigan heard a voice to her left, this time a female one, as she turned to see Izsha coming close to Abathur, standing besides him.

"I'm seeing the solution worked.", Izsha commented. "The smell of cooked eggs proves it."

"This means then we can return to work, then.", Kerrigan said. "Do you think this will do?"

"I think so...", Izsha said, looking at her. "Powerful, has a particular touch, doesn't need a reload... It'll suit fine."

"Yeah, I think so, too.", Kerrigan said. "Only I'll beat you should you start calling me '_Lady Thor_' around, now."

"If it comes as consolation, you won't be needing a hammer, this time.", Izsha commented, letting out a smirk.

"So when am I getting back?", Kerrigan asked. "Nothing concerning being rushed, Izsha, you wanted me to rest and train. I understand that. But when am I beginning the _real_ work?"

"Which part?", Izsha asked back. "When we start rebuilding the Swarm or when we start evicting the Dominion from Char?"

Kerrigan playfully paused for a moment, considering the option.

"Take your pick.", she answered.

"It doesn't matter, truth be told, it remains the same.", Izsha answered. "We'll need to restore ourselves to full strength, and thus, we need everything and everyone back into the fold."

"Even Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked.

"_Especially_ Za'gara.", Izsha answered, turning around to leave. "Come talk to me when you want to begin."

"Izsha.", Kerrigan said, as Izsha turned back when she was called. "Listen, about that discussion with you concerning the infested..."

"Actually, I understand.", Izsha interrupted. "You want to remain human, but you don't want others to suffer for it. There's also an issue with image I didn't thought of, earlier. So, as long as you're here, I think I can let it lie, for now. Just don't try and make more _unpleasant_ changes under my nose, okay?"

Kerrigan then looked at, straight into her eyes, but couldn't tell if she was lying or not on the matter. She then nodded her head in respect.

"It's fair.", Kerrigan answered.

Izsha then smirked as she turned around and left the chamber, leaving Kerrigan and Abathur on their own.

* * *

_Outside, a few minutes after..._

Things have changed little so far along that single day, but both have been keeping their eyes on how things were going down, by the mouth of the Leviathan landed on those mountains. Hetfield and McCoy have not still eaten or drank anything, all too concerned with the sights they were now getting outside, particularly the new sight, of the 'female' Zerg they just spotted. By Hetfield's left side, a small video camera, with the capacity to zoom in or out of their intended target, was being manned by McCoy as it recorded the hard evidence they'd soon upload to the compact, military computer briefcase and then transmit it to the _Harkonnen_ fortress. Then, Warfield would reckon on what to do concerning the new 'neighbor' the Dominion had on their left side.

"Man, it's too quiet.", Hetfield said. "Twenty minutes and nothing yet. It's not normal..."

"Nothing's _ever_ normal with the Zerg, Het.", McCoy commented. "Can you ready the computer for transfer?"

"On it.", Hetfield said, letting out his binoculars and dragging himself to the briefcase, which he opened and turned it on. The small screen came to life as the computer began to activate.

Meanwhile, McCoy had been recording the beast and most of the surroundings around it. Most of the times it concerned the new alien lady before their eyes, but on the times they diverted, it showed Zerglings, Roaches and Hydralisks simply all around, stopped or walking or slithering slowly, obviously guarding the beast's gigantic body.

The time McCoy returned to the alien lady, however, something changed. Someone was with her. More human.

The sight made McCoy widen his eyes.

"Shit!", McCoy shouted, although quiet. "Het, get it online, NOW!"

"What?", Hetfield asked, surprised. "What happened, Mac?"

"It's Kerrigan, she's-", McCoy said, stressed before something then caught him and suddenly pulled him off the ground and away violently, screaming after then in terror. "**HETFIELD, HELP!**"

"**MCCOY**!", Hetfield shouted, in terror, before something had pulled him too, off the ground, by his back. He started with a scared sound and then advanced with a scream of panic as he could see himself being forced higher and higher away from the ground and his worksite, at a pace too alarming to be calm. As he looked randomly in a desperate search of answers, he could see one above. The most terrifying answer of them all.

A line, a thin, fleshy, but strong line, connecting what seemed to be his back to the monster above. A monster with a snake-like appearance, but with insectile wings flapping quickly, allowing it to fly. His eyes widened in terror as he looked around and saw Hetfield by his right side, also being held by the flesh line of one such creature.

Suddenly, something happened. Something let loose of his back, as it did with Hetfield. Then he began to fall. Fall to quickly. The screaming only continued, higher and higher, until, when they hit the bottom, they couldn't scream anymore.

A thing curious about the names Hetfield and McCoy was their history related to a family feud, in Earth's late 19th century in America. A story that only ended when both families had given up the fight. Both decided to end the war.

In the 26th Century, it all ended with both falling into the lava river surrounding the fortress.

* * *

Kerrigan had just stepped into the fleshy, open chamber of the Nerve Center, the warm breeze of the boiling planet outside warming the said room. She could see a pair of Zergling passing by, from right to left, as she walked forward to talk to Izsha concerning the mission ahead.

However, just as she approached the snake-like woman and started to talk to her, she then heard something.

Something like... screams. _Human screams._

"What the hell?", Kerrigan asked, looking at the screaming direction.

"It seems we've just been found.", Izsha answered.

"And why the screams?", Kerrigan asked back, nervous. She then looked at Izsha, suspicions brewing within her. "What have you done?"

"Nothing.", Izsha said, displaying a cynical innocence. "I just took them for a stroll..."

"That's not funny, Izsha.", Kerrigan answered.

"Neither is a nuclear missile on our Leviathan.", Izsha said, ironically. "I'm sorry, Kerrigan, but that's how the game has been running as of late. Especially so soon, after our encounter in the caves. I can't take that risk. I won't."

"You think these are the only ones?", Kerrigan asked.

"I doubt it.", Izsha answered. "And I doubt the road to the caves is clear, too."

"So how do I get back, then?", Kerrigan asked.

"There is another way.", Izsha answered. "You wanna pick on Za'gara now?"

"I'm everything but patient, Izsha.", Kerrigan replied. "What do you think it'll be?"

"It may be complicated.", Izsha said. "But with your success in such close quarters combat before, we may have a chance."

"Close quarters?", Kerrigan asked, looking at Izsha. "Are you saying Za'gara is operating in the caves? That's why you wanted me to train back there?"

"Amongst other things.", Izsha answered. "She's in one particular cave system, below the scarred hills. It's by far the largest and the most developed cave we Zerg have."

"Most developed?", Kerrigan asked.

"Zerg mention for the most infested cave.", Izsha explained. "Prior to the Raiders' invasion, we have transformed it into a breeding chamber, housing an acid marsh inside."

"Pretty uncommon to hide in a nursery, out of most places.", Kerrigan commented.

"You think it as a Terran, but it's different with Zerg.", Izsha said. "Za'gara is counting on the several eggs stored there to be hatched and it's minions being immediately put into service."

"You're telling me she's trying to breed an army?", Kerrigan asked.

"She's trying to steal ones already on the verge of breeding.", Izsha said. "And she'll waste numbers we can use in our campaign against the Dominion unless we put a stop to it. But I've prepared for that."

"How so?", Kerrigan asked.

"The cave I previously selected for your training is not an ordinary one.", Izsha answered. "It contains a special tunnel chamber, that directly grants passage to the cave where Za'gara has settled in. We have excavated it for flanking purposes, so much as an entry point as an exit one, should the Terrans find it and directly assault the cave, like last time."

"And we'll use it to breach in her lair and establish a Hive Cluster.", Kerrigan concluded.

"I've already arranged so, the base is established.", Izsha followed. "It's just your arrival..."

"Yes, well, there's still this problem.", Kerrigan said. "If the Dominion is now watching us, _how do we get there_?"

Izsha simply smirked.

"Meet me in the Evolution Pit.", Izsha said, as she recoiled and disappeared into one of the corners of the beasts mouth, where a hole was, as Kerrigan, shortly dumbstruck by the sight, had then turned around and started heading back into the interiors of the beast.

* * *

**DAELAAM ARK, DEEP SPACE**

Many times, in life, what we get and whatnot often depends on our action, but it often too depends on our choices. And, in many of those times, too, the choice becomes binary. Either yes or no. Despite the hesitation and the conflict inside between temptation and resisting it, beneath it, all it takes is but a single word. A single step.

A single step Lasarra was about to take, as she faced the entrance before her. The small entrance that divided the rest of the ships interiors from the personal quarters of Executor Raseac. She had finished her duty with Evaluator Kalimdor and those Sentries. For the duration of that duty she had said nothing nor talked anything at all concerning the offer the Executor made.

It now had all come down to that choice. To either refuse it and nothing would ever be said again of, and thus Lasarra would continue with a safe life, but one of rough, bad talking by her back because of her sister, or she could take and do something that would silence those claims. She would have before, were not for her, the precious High Executor Selendis to bar her at every turn. It would be a long, rough road, one of hardships and deprived of comfort, but Lasarra had been making efforts for it. She had been striving for it, first believing it was her physical condition that prevented her from joining the warrior caste. Still, it would be worth it.

All she had to do was to cross the entrance. A thing she did. She could feel the bridge that would allow her to turn back burn inside her, but she did only matter the comforting warm of the decision made. Her head was high, her look was straight. Her decision was made.

The interiors to the Executor's quarters were well illuminated, though empty, and riddled with golden-colored plating pretty much like the remainder of the ship. The room itself had an ovular shape, with an energy looking window that'd allow the view outside. On one of the walls, it could be seen a holding, floating stand hanging the banner of his home tribe, the Auriga, the hallowed warriors whom bore a third of the Golden Armada. One of the corners had a floating, golden crafted slate with a blue energy screen by the center, where he rested and slept, like many beings did, albeit the Protoss did not share the notions of comfort the Terrans did. On another corner was some sort of a table too bent, like a curved one, with a support keeping the crystal atop afloat, while on the center lied a small, cocoon like device with blue energy running around it. A hologram transmitter that so much was useful for communications as was an alien computer.

"I was wondering when you would appear.", Lasarra heard a voice behind her. One she was familiar with. She turned around to see Raseac was standing by a shadowed corner, close to the entrance, whom them walked a bit forward, to the light, towards her. "I was wondering if you _would_ appear, indeed. Now, what do you want, Lasarra?"

Lasarra herself found that question a bit of a... odd one.

"If you know such answer, Executor, why to make the question?", Lasarra asked.

"I know why you have come.", Raseac answered. "What I am asking you is what do you _want_. Do you want to fight and kill, and survive, or to protect your people?"

Lasarra then realized it was one of those questions that concerned her character. It was a question also dependent on if the Executor would indeed train her or not.

"I want to protect my people.", Lasarra answered.

"Why?", Raseac then asked.

Lasarra hesitated a bit.

"Because I can see my people are in danger.", Lasarra answered. "I can see my people are helpless and cannot help themselves. I can see my people shall perish to that danger unless someone makes a stand. I wish to be this someone."

Raseac said nothing, but simply looked at the female figure before him, for a brief moment.

"I can see that wish within you.", Raseac said, then, starting to walk around her, in a clockwise direction. "In spirit, perhaps. But, I admit, I am failing to see it in _body_."

Suddenly, Lasarra could feel something very strong hit her. A hit, by her own 'tutor', in the left side of her belly. She felt the pain hit her brutal and heavily as she suddenly fell to her knees, surprised and agonized by it. She then looked at Raseac, whom now seemed more threatening from where she stood.

"_What are you doing!?_", Lasarra asked, anguished all out of a sudden.

"Do you not wish to make a stand? Well then, allow me to _see it_!", Raseac said, without changing his mood, when he suddenly unleashed a kick with his right feet, pushing Lasarra aside and lying down on the ground.

Nervous and shocked, Lasarra, with her eyes widened in terror, only looked at Raseac, and did nothing but attempt to fall back, when a loud energy sound was heard and she looked behind, only to see the entrance now had a thick, blue energy screen blocking it.

She was trapped inside with him.

"What are you doing?", Raseac asked, increasingly menacing, provoking her. "Is this how you want to protect your people? _Running from your aggressor_!?"

Lasarra then felt something pulling her, something too strong, as she was forcefully dragged away from the barrier. And closer to Raseac, whom hit her again when she approached him. She flew by the Executor's table, hitting it as the Khaydarin crystal nearby lost it's floating balance and flew to the ground, crashing in a set of eight broken pieces as it hit the golden-clad floor. Lasarra fell too, although she wasn't broken. Yet.

Lasarra, in deep pain, still attempted to get at her feet and run when Raseac pulled her again to him then hit her again, making her fly this time to the energy window, hitting it without causing damage at all, but to her, as more pain was added to her list of injuries.

"_React_!", Raseac suddenly shouted when he hit her. In pain and in more shock and fear than before, she simply tried to back away to a corner of the wall, an effort seemingly useless, as he could pull her to him again and again with his telekinesis. "Why will you not react!?"

"_Why are you doing this to me_!?", Lasarra asked, in more terror. Raseac, instead, answered nothing. He only pulled her again with his telekinesis and hit her as she approached him once more.

"Stop! **STOP!**", Lasarra shouted in terror, though, aware or not, no one nearby would listen.

"It _will_ stop, youngling!", Raseac shouted back. "And it will stop either with you standing... _or me_!"

The Executor then pulled her once more to his direction and held her this time, beating her three times, whom now shouted in agony.

"Do it, Lasarra!", Raseac ordered. "React! Fight me! _Hit me_!"

He then hit her, brutally, twice on her face. She was entirely in pain, more pain than she ever felt.

"Why do you not fight!?", Raseac asked, in anger, beating her again, in the stomach, making her bent. "Answer me! _Why do you not fight me_!?"

"You are the Executor!", Lasarra answered back, anguished.

As a response, Raseac then grabbed her throat with his right hand and forcefully tightened the grip.

"_And what if you have to fight one of your own_?", Raseac asked, quiet, but menacingly. "What if he is your superior officer? You will simply stand down because of rank? _Because of position_!?"

Raseac released his grip on her, then kicked her again, making her fall once more.

"Come, youngling!", Raseac shouted. "**FIGHT!**"

Lasarra then got on her feet, frightened and wounded, as she only looked the abusive superior officer before her. She then unleashed a feral scream as she now advanced on him, the instincts kicking in she had no choice but to fight back, even if the attempt was as pathetic as it could get.

Unfortunately, the attempt was indeed pathetic, as, by the first strike she attempted to launch at Raseac, he blocked it and struck her face again, making her fall to the ground. She then slowly put herself to her feet as Raseac simply stood there, watching. She then tried striking again, but again was blocked as Raseac hit her in the belly again. Trying to quickly recover, she tried to hit Raseac, but he dodged it by stepping backwards as he let out another kick, making her fall again.

Lasarra was now feeling too injured and too exhausted to attempt at a fight, her insides and bones aching with pain so extreme and brutal. She tried making effort to move, but the pain was simply too much for one as seemingly fragile was her. Raseac simply walked up close, behold the young weakling before him. Lasarra, deep inside, knew what this meant.

He'd finish the job. She would not leave, at all.

It'd be that then. She now regretted the choice. She now understood why Selendis refused time and again. But she'd do one last act of defiance.

She'd go down fighting.

Lasarra put up an effort deep inside her to ignore the pain and get on her feet, but only managed to come in all fours as she looked at the towering figure before her, on the verge of delivering the final blow. She then tried one last hit, lounging her right hand to the figure, regardless of what would happen.

Raseac reacted again. He grabbed her right arm as it came to him. He held it for two seconds before he unleashed his heavier right hand on her head, making her fall for good, in pain and too weak. She was now down on the floor, her life at the very brink. She simply stood there, awaiting the final kick.

Instead, Raseac was simply looking at the figure he had beaten brutally and broken. He did nothing since, but look at her for a time.

"Now, you are learning.", Raseac said, in a tone far too coldly compared to that one Lasarra heard. "Now, you understand. You understand that pain does not matter, a wound does not matter, a broken limb does not matter. If you can still move, then move. If you can still kill, then _kill_. Continue to move, continue to kill, until you can no longer. That is the way of a Zealot, initiate. That is the way of war. It begins with pain. It ends with sorrow. _Remember that_."

Raseac then stepped back as the energy barrier blocking the way out fell, but it was briefly clear. For two massive figures, in armor and a slight sight of blue energy, shaped like blades, had walked right inside, to her direction, surrounding her.

"Do it.", Raseac ordered as the two Zealots then proceeded to pick her up, lifting her forcefully and dragging her out of the Executor's Quarters and into the corridors outside. The Executor himself stepped outside, seeing the female he beat being dragged out of a serene life, to one of pain and suffering.

It was necessary. It always brutal, painful, but it was necessary, with her and many other initiates before her. He had to deliver pain so she'd come out stronger. Pain tolerance was one of the many traits a warrior had to develop, and many other traits would come afterwards. That was one lesson he, as an Executor understood. That and another lesson he inherited from he whom taught him lessons so similar, and hit him so similar. That he who instructs should be the one to first wound. For it was the way of things. Always were and always would be with the Protoss, something that was being done long before the emergence of Khas and the Great Link and would long be done so even before the imminent end of stars.

For it was the way of war.

It always began with pain.

It would forever end with sorrow.

* * *

"_You're kidding me, aren't you_?", Kerrigan asked, angry, looking at the sight before her. The sight of a large, flesh hole before her, riddled with teeth and claws, that was spinning clockwise. "You want me to step into _that_!?"

The gigantic hole was one of a few things she noticed different from the first time she entered the Evolution Pit, but she knew it must have served for something of it's nature, like the other chambers she walked before had. Some sort of disposal unit, she thought. Now, with Izsha with her, her opinion changed, because it was told to her. It was a Nydus Canal, their fastest transportation method.

"The teeth are nothing to worry about.", Izsha commented, casually. "I'd worry more about the barf..."

"Oh, _that too_!?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically. "I'm also gonna be _coated_ in that thing's spit!? Thank you, I'll pass."

"So you want to risk getting caught by Dominion patrols?", Izsha asked, ironically.

"Yeah, I'd rather have that risk than _this_!", Kerrigan answered, gesturing at the spinning hole before it. "At least I can do a thing or two about it."

"Well, you're not getting a choice on this one, either.", Izsha said, as the fleshy doors of the Evolution Pit's entrance had shut close when Kerrigan stepped back and turned around. The Puppet Queen could see the doors close.

"_Come on, Izsha_!", Kerrigan exclaimed, nervous.

"No, _you_ come on, and right on that thing.", Izsha said, motioning her head to the hole. "You oughta have a first time for everything in life, be it sex, commanding Zerg or using a Canal. Come on, the sooner you get to do this, the better."

"Why?", Kerrigan asked, crossing her arms. "_Why does it have to be like this_?"

"Short version?", Izsha asked. "We're short on time, and this is the fastest way. Come on, Kerrigan, it's easy. It's like... _riding a bike_."

"_Easy_!?", Kerrigan asked, frowning her forehead. "With all those teeth and all those things?"

"So that's the concern?", Izsha asked, like if she was caring nothing at all for her 'friend'. "All right, I'll cut you a break."

Suddenly, the hole had slowed it's spin and then stopped, although it was tremoring itself, like if something or someone was holding a cog, jamming it's cycle. The teeth also forced itself behind, making the entrance more lenient for access, at least for Kerrigan. She had only been looking at it, hesitating at first.

"Come on, already.", Izsha said, calling Kerrigan's attention. "Too long and it will break. Get in."

Kerrigan then closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then stepped forward slowly into the tremoring hole. She stepped into the support tentacle that'd elevate her and raised herself so her feet and legs were facing the hole.

"Last minute advice, Kerrigan.", Izsha said, behind her, as Kerrigan turned to look her. "_Breathe deep_...", she said songfully.

'_Screw you, Izsha..._', Kerrigan thought, angry, as she then approached the hole, looking at it's fleshy, deep dark end, like a mouth usually led to a stomach. She then grabbed each corner of the tremoring hole with her hands as she first brought her right feet, shyfully and carefully, and then her left feet, stepping at the hole.

Suddenly, the hole then began convulsing itself, forcing Kerrigan to lose her grip and bringing her in deep inside the throat of the creature. She looked, at first in horror the event as she took a deep breath and closed her mouth and eyes tight.

By the time she crossed the throat, she could feel the creature's swallow crushing her as then she began to then feel the speed picking up, her entire body and suit being covered with slimy mucus that ran upside as the peristaltic motion drove her in a velocity unexpected of such thing as she could feel herself sliding down the flesh, drool covered surface of the Nydus' interiors. It had been like this for two minutes, with turns and straight runs, all while she held her breath, which wasn't easy, and kept her mouth and eyes shut real tight. Then, she felt open, hot air, as she then hit the surface and rolled, falling down on a purple slime she was well familiarized.

It was when she opened her eyes and her mouth, taking a first deep breath when she then realized the mess she was, all covered in liquid, transparent alien drool, that even covered her lips. She could feel some entering her mouth, demonstrating some gross, awful taste before she spat it out as liquid drooled in abundance around her body. She came at her knees, knowing too well she was kneeling at Creep-covered surface, but she did not care now to complain about it.

'_What a ride you've got, Izsha._', she thought, bitter. '_All covered in drool and some even got into my mouth. I'm gonna punch you in the face the moment we meet_.'

As she breathed then, she took notice of the scenery around her, noticing she was no longer in the warm, fleshy environment of the leviathan, but in a whole different scene. She could see walls covered in creep, enveloping dark rock, yet conflicting with the Zerg features some rows occupied. Zerg features like lines of thick, tube-like tentacles covered in carapace decorating the cavern, some by pools of some liquid bubbling and letting out streams of steam. She could see the cave was poorly illuminated, with the exception of a eerie-green luminance coming from somewhere. Spiky rocks extended above, surrounded by self-moving tendrils, tentacles and spike-riddled spires. Thick intestine-like organs, thick as rubber tubes, could be seen afar as they convulsed, as if they were transporting something.

Looking around her, she could see the structures and Zerg minions she came to be familiar with during that last time in the caverns. She could see some Zerglings and Drones, but there were also two Roaches and three Hydralisks as well, all looking smoothed down as they stared at her. Behind them, she could see the Hatchery. Kerrigan then got on her feet and approached an edge of the cliff that'd allow her to get a rough glimpse of where she was.

She saw a small cavern passage, connecting other entrances, one of which had a stalagmite cluster dividing them in-between. She could see a wide ramp connecting the plateau she was standing, as was her current forces. But then, she looked at something by the corner, close to the first entrance to the left. Something that was moving and was organic. A partial source of the eerie-green lightning.

Zerg eggs. There'd be more nearby, but that about was it.

She was right at the site of the said breeding nest.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And that's about it. The final episode of the peace interval between battles. As you may have seen, the stage is set for several important events and the evolution of arcs, like the arc on Haven with the Raiders and the Dominion, Lasarra's arc and, especially, our conclusion of Kerrigan's arc concerning lightning. Now, all there's about are the two battles ahead, although those will be done in separate episodes. Well, the battle on Haven will be more of an unfortunate meeting, with a reason and conclusion you'll come to like. Plus, it'll be shorter, allowing me to either continue the Lasarra arc or skip straight to Nova, Henderson and Hardscape.

Now, talking about the episode, you may or not have noticed the possible number of references to Marvel comic books in this chapter. There'll be those who'll relate that mostly by that _'Lady Thor'_ line, but there are other references as well. One of these is _Spider-Man_, I'm more talking about the first movie, with Tobey Maguire, when he was bit and had to pass through that fever and temporary weakness and other things. You can see the same on Kerrigan, when Abathur gave the miraculous 'solution' of his, although hers was more instant, more quick and more painful. Other reference to that is related to the moves she makes while testing her new lightning powers, now that one comes a bit from the car thief scene in the recent Garfield's motion picture, combined with a bit of an _Iron Man_ style. Just saying how I pictured it'd be, it was a bit too complicated itself to deny how Kerrigan would fire her lightning, I'm more good in putting such choreography on a movie and send it rather than writing it in details, despite that too would be ridiculous. Finally, _Captain America_, of course, because of the super-human status, the side effect of the solution.

Then, talking about the cool things and the things not that cool, let's start with the not cool, that was Lasarra's said 'initiation' into her presumed training as a warrior. People will immediately compare a bit of that with Nolan's _Batman Begins_ movie, that's about the closest I can imagine, but my writing was, by itself, more determined to approach the training of a Zealot more close to 300. There are many among you, I understand, that I've went too far on how Raseac initiated her, but it was painfully necessary. After all, this is a warrior's training we're talking about, and the Protoss don't exactly deal with cutie, plushy things as of late. Not to mention that, if I remember the StarCraft lore, the Zealots, for decades, have perfected themselves in martial discipline, martial combat and, most of all, pain tolerance, so avoiding to put that would be as much of a crime as those retcons with the Primal Zerg and Stukov were. I told before and I tell you again, they don't and never belonged to the story, in my opinion. Then, there's the challenge of reducing centuries of training to a few chapters to avoid Lasarra's arc from dragging too long while the Zerg still have not arrived on Haven. Something I think I'm up to, I'll just need some research on the matter at some point.

Now, the coolest thing I've wrote on this chapter, IMO, was those conversations with Abathur, those philosophical ones of the old Humanity vs Evolution thing, I feel that's something that helped elevate the Fanfic to a whole different level, to a mature audience. They have that _Deus Ex_ feel everyone likes because it's something you'd want at a point, a Terran and a Zerg debating on those concerns, something that, if Blizzard extended HotS campaign to beyond that non-sense 20 missions' limit, it'd have raised a bit the writing from what it was. Just saying, too.

Well, then, so long, until next week. Critique, rant me, yell at me, sue me **Ragnarok**, for not faving your story earlier and reviewing it. And, remember to pay your respects to poor Mac and Het, they deserved it, unlike Penny. Poor bastards.


	15. Chapter XIII - The War for the Brood

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XIII - THE WAR FOR THE BROOD**

* * *

Creep virtually dominated the chamber, as the well as the supposed Zerg decoration inside, with it's organic features as well as the structures that rested within the vast space within. Some webbing could be seen connecting either the walls and the floor or the walls and rock ceiling above. There were webbing hanging above, crossing the cave chamber, like bridges or vast, thicker tree vines of a jungle. Most rows of walls were the said 'most developed', in Zerg terms. Line after of carapace covered tentacles ran across the vertical space of the walls, dark purple flesh connecting and standing beneath those tentacles. Some tentacles had a pointy, but soft end that extended from those without them on the floor. In some corners of the room, excavated holes, like if they were man-made, were covered with creep atop as the hole was filled with row after row of eggs, resting as they nurtured the future Zerg warrior minions whom'd be deployed, in time. From the tentacle-ridden walls, also extruded some tentacles, more smaller, but immobile and riddled with thorns. On the floor, besides the nest holes filled with eggs, stood other features like glowing pods and even living intestines, without any ornamental sense or a purpose known.

Occupying that chamber was the most large and advanced Hive Cluster that could be conceived. Hatcheries far more larger and imposing, with their tendrils and tentacles extending upwards and bending back to the structures themselves, in a twisted alien sense. That was because those were not Hatcheries, but Hives, the apex of the cores of every Zerg colony. They were the hearts of a body far larger and stronger, much stronger than the colonies whom only bore Hatcheries and more stronger than the colonies that contained Lairs. It was the way of evolution, to grow stronger. Hatcheries would grow to Lairs. Lairs would grow to Hives. Always had been like this. And forever it would still be. But there were also other important node structures, the ones that opened the genetic libraries revered by the Zerg for their warrior strains. Spawning Pools, Roach Warrens, Hydralisk Dens... All of which were keys to a door so locked that were the genetic strands of the Zerg minions. Afar, in the sparse ceiling, it was also riddled with Overlords, at least a visible dozen of them, floating above as they kept the leash strong between the minions she controlled. The only type of structure that was not visible were the towering spires that would allow her Brood to unleash it's aerial minions on their opponents. On the caves, aerial superiority was as needless as without any sort of sense. There was no room for maneuvers in those caverns, no space for the aerial strains to fit in and cross chamber by chamber. It'd all have to be done by ground, by controlling the tunnels and entrances. For the Terrans, it was a viable defense, but for the Zerg, it was an _optimal_ one. When numbers after numbers clashed one another, it was like water hitting a wall of rock. Effortless and pointless. It was something she liked.

She had been keeping watch, by the very entrance, that hardly reminded a cave entrance. It was more because it was a land bridge connecting the two edges of a massive gorge below, riddled so much with rock spires as with the thick Zerg intestines circling them below. She saw a battle group, of Zerglings and at least a couple of Roaches passing by, crossing that entrance. Another area, filled with eggs, they would guard. Eggs she would hatch, in time, and thus integrate those numbers to her Brood. Numbers that would be used to rid Char of those insolent Terran intruders whom shattered the Swarm. The numbers were _always_ the key. The Terrans had powerful ammunition and machinery, but even that would run dry, with the ever replenishble numbers of the Swarm. It was inevitable.

All she had to do... was to wait.

Although, truth be told, patience, among the Zerg, was the virtue of only a few. Few like the Queen she served. Few like the oldest of Brood Mothers. That was because she had been created only recently, prior to the invasion of those soft-flesh small creatures to a world where evolution was _mandatory_. She only came to be in command of a Brood recently, meant to take care of those nests and, thus, of the whole planet that was the throne of the Swarm by a few days ago. A Swarm that was now divided as the Brood Mothers fought one another in a bicker for control of the Swarm. So did her, although she had to handle the burden of the Terran intruders first. Only then, with the planet belonging to Zerg and Zerg alone, could she start with higher aims and beyond.

Suddenly, she felt a presence unexpected, close, by the very cavern she was now occupying. So much her heightened biological senses, from her gestation as a higher form of Queen, as her psionic capacity allowed her to sense the foreign presence, the thought energy identifying it to the reader. It was a power she recognized. It was something from before the fall of Terrans, although weaker than before.

She only smiled. That is, if she _had_ a human mouth to smile on. That was a prize greater than any she ever had. A honor so high. The honor of defeating one most powerful as before. As before, not now, as she was now weakened. Still, her carcass would be a great token, as the others would know whom they were dealing with.

"She is here...", murmured Za'gara, as her jaws drooled and let out a bestial hiss in anticipation of the conflict ahead.

Shortly after, her 'children' followed suit.

* * *

_On the other side..._

"Doesn't look like much.", that was the first comment Sarah Kerrigan made, concerning those new caves she just entered.

'_Don't be so quick to judge._', Izsha said, on her mind. '_The real thing lies just after the entrances. The eggs alone are in enough number to open an omelet restaurant. And unless you do something, Za'gara is pitched to be the owner._'

"And how am I going to do that?", Kerrigan asked. "I'm _Terran_, in case you haven't noticed."

'_But a part of you is Zerg._', Izsha said. '_This should help you figure it out._'

"_Yeah, right._", Kerrigan answered back, sarcastically. "Thanks for the help."

Kerrigan heard a chuckle coming out of Izsha.

'_Just kidding._', Izsha said. '_You'll need to use Drones to collect those eggs. Then, you just store them by the infusion pond. Simple process._'

"'_Infusion pond_'?", Kerrigan asked, dumbstruck.

'_A large puddle close by you._', Izsha answered. '_Look left._'

Kerrigan then turned in that direction and noticed some eerie smoke coming from a depression ahead, close by the access land ramp. Kerrigan then walked up close to that depression to take a look. When she approached it she noticed a large puddle of a liquid too virulent to be water, the source of the eerie smoke below. The liquid was bubbling and corroding all by itself, without heat or a catalyst. From the puddle, she could see Zerg features like small eggs, curbs riddled with small horns and even some horns extending upside and out of the puddle. From what Kerrigan knew, this could be an acid of some sort, but the Zerg organisms nearby, the vast row of tentacles by the walls of the puddle didn't seem affected or injured at all. Still, she preferred to take no chances. One notable feature of this puddle, however, was the horrid smell that caught Kerrigan's nostrils. A putrid, terrible smell, worse than methane spewed by Terrans.

"I wouldn't want to dip into that.", Kerrigan commented. "Especially given the smell..."

'_Don't underestimate that puddle, little girl._', Izsha said. '_This is what we use to accelerate the birthing process. And it's where you'll have to store the eggs before we hatch all of them at once._'

"All of them?", Kerrigan asked. "How much are we talking about?"

'_Roughly, let's say..._', Izsha said, considering. '_A hundred._'

"_One hundred_!?", Kerrigan asked, appalled. "_All in one shot_!?"

'_Well, the cave's total is three hundred, if you count the eggs still in their infancy, too._', Izsha said.

"Well, why not just pick them and hatch a small portion, one at a time?", Kerrigan asked, worried.

'_Actually, that'd be the plan, were not for the fact the catalyst process takes too long to brew again, once it's been used._', Izsha commented. '_It's something we tried to change, but in the end it came with nothing. It'll have to be in the hard way. And you'll have to be fast, too._'

"Why do I get the feeling it's for a reason?", Kerrigan asked, letting out a sigh.

'_Za'gara also wants those eggs._', Izsha answered. '_And she'll want even more the moment she realizes she's got guests in the house._'

"Well...", Kerrigan started, then turning to look around her cave chamber entrances. "There's no one here yet, she mustn't still know."

'_She doesn't have to._', Izsha said. '_She's a Brood Mother, a more advanced Queen, and thus her psionic ability can sense anyone foreign inside the cavern. Scouting or not, she knows you're here._'

"Great.", Kerrigan said, closing her eyes. "So, I'll have to go to work in an instant..."

'_Well, not as instant as it is traveling with Nydus, but up close._', Izsha said, casually, as Kerrigan tightened her eyes in anger. '_Made a nice trip, by the way?_'

"Don't provoke me.", Kerrigan said, menacingly playful. "That's the second on the list, apart from the '_Droney, Droney_'."

Izsha let out a small chuckle.

'_The feeling's mutual._', Izsha said. '_Alright, Kerrigan, go do your magic. We'll talk later._'

Rolling her eyes clockwise, Kerrigan then turned around and headed to the Hive Cluster.

* * *

Some small dust emerged from below. Sounds, repeated and without pattern, were being sounded on the ground. Paws and legs, marching at unorganized paces, as the beasts traveled across the cavern, looking for their prey. The prey the Brood Mother most desired. They would find it for her and then she'd throw everything on her. No mercy, no quarter. She'd spare no Zerg in the assault and she'd leave none serving the enemy alive. Her enemy was powerless at the moment, but commanded Zerg, which meant haste was pivotal to success as well. She bet in strength by numbers, and she clearly outnumbered her opponent three to one. Her enemy would crumble in the very first assault, even with her legendary psionic powers in the game.

More and more Zerglings, Hydralisks and Roaches continued onwards to their assignment. More and more minions to the hunt, now fully intended on ensure that cave belonged to their Brood Mother alone. In the background, rows of eggs from the Hives and Hatcheries, formed of Larvae, formed more and more minions of both three strains that would then be sent. One or two were making Overlords, so to ensure control wouldn't rupture.

The message Za'gara would deliver to her prize was a clear one. She wouldn't take the cave.

But she wouldn't get out alive, either.

* * *

First, were the Drones. But she reminded her lessons in the other cave, too. For every seven or eight, a new Overlord. Rinse, repeat. Then, after a while, start building the Spawning Pool and the Extractor by the nearby Geyser. This time, she remembered to hold her breath while she took the Drone with her. Then, she started building all those Zerglings. A new pair had just bursted from one of the eggs.

She could now easily remember. It was easy to remember things, especially after a bullet almost _ripped her apart_, the last time. This time, Kerrigan would try and not be as foolish as she was to get in the middle of the battle. She would amass a decent number before starting her search for those eggs. She was fortunate the birthing process for those Zerglings was fast.

'_You've learned well._', Izsha commented.

"I've had a good teacher.", Kerrigan replied.

'_Still, there'll be more to do, as I told._', Izsha said. '_There's always something to do when you're commanding Zerg. Like you can right now, now that you can make Roaches and Hydralisks._'

"That fast?", Kerrigan asked. "Aren't you trusting me a bit too much on this one?"

'_Concerning Za'gara, I'd say giving those to you are more of an actual necessity._', Izsha said.

Kerrigan simply shrugged her forehead.

"Alright, then, how do I get them?", Kerrigan asked.

'_The Roach Warren is easy, you only needed the Spawning Pool._', Izsha answered. '_Simply order a Drone to make one. Unfortunately, the Hydralisk Den is a more complicated. You will need a Lair to allow their construction._'

"A Lair?", Kerrigan asked, curious.

'_These come by evolving one of your Hatcheries._', Izsha answered. '_Lairs expand the communication capabilities of a Hive Cluster, allowing for a faster set of commands on a higher area. It also assimilates more of the Swarm's genetic strands, that'll allow you to produce Hydralisks._'

"But if I order my Hatchery to evolve, will I lose it?", Kerrigan asked.

'_No, it'll still produce Creep and Larvae._', Izsha answered, smirking. '_It will remain a Hatchery, but just better, larger and neater. Give it a try._'

Kerrigan simply took a deep breath.

"Well, here goes nothing...", She said, as she then touched her temple, staring into the Hatchery.

'_Mutate into a Lair._', Kerrigan psionically ordered.

Then, although it took some time, some tentacles had started coming out of the Hatchery's primary base and enveloped it in a pupal cocoon, although this one was a more mingled mass of flesh and than an actual egg, one that only enveloped the tip and middle of the Hatchery, leaving the base apparently intact, despite the fact the distributed tentacles were trembling a bit. The cocoon spasmed as something within it occurred. However, this didn't seem to affect it's functionality, as it still bred and released Larvae periodically, as well as kept the Creep spread stable. In the meanwhile Kerrigan looked at it, she then had ordered one of the Drones to make a nearby Roach Warren and continued to make more Zerglings, as well as Overlords. Kerrigan noticed she was now commanding a sizable force now.

A large cracking sound was heard as the pupal flesh surrounding the former Hatchery had burst apart, the new Lair forming up. Kerrigan looked to see the new structure before her, and noticed the difference in appearance alone. New carapace formed below the cone tip of the structure, connected by newly formed flesh as well. The claws of the cone tip have grown up significantly, almost closing the maw itself. Still, it was not finished with it's work, as below, the base horns had started to move. They were unfolding upwards, revealing a bit more of the extension of their limbs, as they grew upwards and directed towards the Lair itself, delivering an appearance more fierce and fearsome than before.

By it's side, the pupal flesh had also burst, revealing the second new structure, the Roach Warren Kerrigan had ordered the Drone to morph into. It seemed like more the entry of a monster's cavern from fairytale stories rather than an alien structure by itself. This could be explained by the cracked shell appearance, filled with glowing balloon orbs filled with thick horns, with an entrance that reminded a cavern which heroes would enter to slay the beast inside. But inside, there seemed to be a head far more larger than that of Roaches, that inhabited the interior of the structure.

"Alright, Izsha, you got your Lair.", Kerrigan said. "Seems we got the ball rolling now."

'_Good._', Izsha replied. '_Time to go to work. Those eggs won't be standing there forever, if Za'gara knows our intentions._'

"What of the Hydralisk Den?", Kerrigan asked.

'_You can order a Drone to build it now._', Izsha said.

"Good, I'll order it and get on the move.", Kerrigan said. She then focused on a Drone whom was carrying a mineral chunk and pressed her temple.

'_Stop._', Kerrigan ordered, within her mind. '_Come over here._'

The Drone then ceased it's movements and shortly after went in Kerrigan's direction. It was still carrying the mineral chunk, though. Kerrigan paused for a minute, noticing the blue crystal. She never wondered what would happen if the Drone entered it's structure pupal stage while carrying the chunk. Shortly, she decided to not take a chance.

'_Drop that mineral chunk._', Kerrigan ordered. The Drone then dropped the chunk at the very spot and simply stared at her, as she stared back. '_You're coming with me._'

'_I'd round up a group, if I were you._', Izsha said. '_These eggs are rounded in clusters._'

Kerrigan only growled in annoyance. That was going to be a long day.

* * *

A long march. A long run. Between runs, between distances unknown. Sights unknown, devoid of light.

It was irrelevant. _Everything_, for it, was irrelevant. Only two things mattered, so much for it as for others, be they different or same of shape. What mattered were two things and two things alone. Obey and kill. In that order. It was in it's nature. It was programmed within it, as with those around it.

'_Keep searching. She is here, and she is certain to not be alone._'

The voice had repeated that time again as it continued it's searched and the pack followed. An imprint of what the voice, belonging to what it must obey by all means, lurked constantly in it's mind. A new sight had come in. A tunnel. An entrance. It entered without hesitation, doubt or fear, not even of death. It had none since it's creation. The indoctrination during it's formation from a Larvae always had told it's purpose. Obey and kill. Until it's death. _Always_ obey and kill. Never stop until ordered otherwise. It knew it's place and knew it's function.

It was a puppet. It was a weapon. It was a minion, like any other. It was a Zergling. From now until then. 'Till the end.

The Zergling, and other Zerglings, had then crossed the tunnel. A pack of twelve, growling and prepared for battle. Prepared to die, in service to the voice that commanded them. A follower so blind, devoid of reason, of emotion. Devoid of self-preservation. Meant to be expended. The pack had crossed the tunnel. They have had new sights. Ones like them, although they were not like them. Ones of different shapes, shapes they had seen before, but not like them too.

Another sight had entered their eyes. The sight the voice desired. Of a tall figure commanding those like them. They growled in satisfaction.

The pack advanced.

* * *

Several warriors and a few workers. A sight that would be common were not for those in that cavern. Those like Kerrigan, whom'd dive deep into trouble, fighting whatever else came in their path. There'd be no workers, weren't for the eggs. Kerrigan at the same time sighed in frustration as she reasoned the importance. Za'gara could so much hatch those eggs as she could. She could unleash those eggs on her within an instant and overwhelm her through sheer brute force.

Kerrigan looked right to see the new structure was now ready. The Hydralisk Den. A structure that was genuinely alien in it's aspect. The explanation was it's format, a flesh-covered mound that bore a row of scaled carapace and a maw filled with teeth. On the back, however, was a sight more unique, a series of limbs opened and spread, exposing the connected flesh between them, like the unfolded feather tail of a peacock. Still, one riddled with horns and spikes.

A new set of Zerglings approached her, followed by new sights she only had seen so far on the Leviathan and during her last battle. Roaches. Now she had something to give Za'gara's minions, should they come towards her. Hydralisks would come soon enough.

Suddenly a feral roar was heard by the horizon. By the ramp connecting her entrance. Kerrigan then turned around to see twelve Zerglings, all coming out of a tunnel, lounging towards her. Kerrigan could read her minds, but she didn't have to. She as much felt those belonged to her target. The Brood Mother. Another proof was the equally bestial roar her own minions delivered once they saw those Zerglings as well. It seemed they had a sense of instinct within their own, capable of differing friend and foe at the same time. Before she could make a move, the Zerglings went ahead and delivered the blow.

Zergling against Zergling clashed on one another, in runs that reminded horsemen fighting one another and jousting, although they did not dodge. Opposing bodies collided violently as the nearest had either past over them or surrounded those fallen. One such occasion happened to one of Za'gara's Zerglings in the middle. After tumbling and quickly recovering, it started a violent, feral duel with it's opponent before a flanking one came by it and started assaulting it with it's claws. The poor beast roared in agony as the claws drilled through the thin layer of carapace protecting the flesh and pierced through, as Kerrigan's Zerglings savagely assaulted and slaughtered their renegade kin without remorse, respite, pity or even mercy. Within an exact count of five seconds, the dozen enemy Zerglings fell, their bodies tore apart as puddles of blood, splat or not, stained the dark dirt of the cavern. One limb or two belonging to one of the deceased was also spread around.

Amazed and shocked at the sight, even though it was an unfair indeed, a simple dozen against sixty or seventy minions, Kerrigan came to realize how brutal was a fight of Zerg against Zerg. Such fight was even more violent than even fights between Terrans and Zerg, or even Terrans and style. That was because it was devoid of style, emotion or sense. It was pure killing. Such fight of one Zerg against another depicted the pure Darwinian nature of the fight, where only the strongest or most evolved prevailed. The Zerglings let out a savage roar of triumph as they stood down, awaiting the next assault.

Knowing there'd be more to come, she then returned to her senses as she and the Zerg minions around her moved to the first egg cluster, the exact same one close to the entrance, where the Drones then started popping the eggs off their base and then ferried them to that infusion pond. Kerrigan witnessed the Drones float harmlessly over that liquid as they stored the first five eggs by a corner, in a manner as crude as an alien, but as effective as Terrans moving crates could ever do. It'd be like this some times or several, depending on the number of eggs of each cluster she'd visit, but it'd be the same. Back and forth. Back and forth. Until those one hundred eggs filled the pond.

"Let's get to it.", she said to herself, before starting to move.

She and her minions then headed into the tunnel the Zergling pack had come through.

It was on.

* * *

She had been contemplating at the empty void of the ambiance of the cavern before her. Watching and waiting. She would be found. Her minions would find her. Or, better yet, she would find her alone. The minions, like any other belonging to other Brood Mothers, were an _extension_ of her. They were her hand and claws, reaching to the longest of distances to strike at the farthest opponent. They were her multiple eyes and ears.

Still, it was a move unexpected by the weakling advisor, she thought. It was predicted she would bully her minions with that large beast of hers to fight on and on until she could no more, in a pointless effort to prove herself worthy, when she was not. A _halfling_, one meant to serve, not lead, that's what she was. But even so, she did what none believed she would. She looked for someone else to do her fighting for her. Not just someone. One whom was as close to the Swarm, days ago.

It was as greatly resourceful as it was greatly despicable. When a weakling would join forces with another, there was nothing to be expected otherwise, not even a swing of strength. Strength was the highest value every Zerg understood. The weak fall as the strong thrive. It was like this before, with the inception of the Overmind by the Xel'Naga, it would be like this for an _eternity_. For an eternity of eternities.

Her psionics continued to sense her prey as her eyes continued to look at the eyes of all of those minions, all the same time, looking for her. Her psionics commanded and directed them with the efficiency of a computer and the cunning of the finest Terran strategist known. Her power carried the will of the Swarm to the innumerable minions of her brood. But, with the Swarm now broken, it all concerned a different will. _Her will_. She pretty much thought that as the other Brood Mothers, each believing they were entitled to command the Swarm entirely, worthy or not. Or some others, like Na'fash, whom departed far away to settle their own Swarms from scratch.

One of those eyes however, had seen something. A sight. The sight she was looking for, before she briefly lost it. She then felt a small shock, one she was used to, was there was nothing then but a small speck of a cold void.

That was all the proof she needed.

'_Get her._', she ordered, plainly and psionically.

Through her then, besides her, shapes of various sizes and designs bursted from behind her, circling her and advancing outside her Hive Cluster and into the open.

Zerglings. Hydralisks. Roaches. And some other things.

All headed to her target.

* * *

The crossing had been fast. Given her new speed and disposition, a fruit of the evolution Abathur delivered her, she could now move a bit more faster, as he had informed her. Also, there was little to worry about concerning others moving when they were circling around her, opening room for her movements. It was as much of a biologically programmed submission to hierarchy as was a small sign of respect. She rather believed it was the first rather than the latter. She always believed it was impossible to be working amongst an army of monsters.

Now, she wasn't only working with them. She was _commanding_ them. They would follow her into the next battle and the next. That made her a bit nervous. She couldn't forget the promise she made to herself, that she'd never have anything to do with the Zerg Swarm ever again, but now she was commanding them. '_They're just a tool._', she always kept thinking. '_A means to an end._' The real objective lied comfortable in his palace. She somehow knew she was falling along that old path, but she resisted. Otherwise, how could she have limited those infestations and fought back always when attacked? Still, she knew she was falling. So much her outside appearance as being forced to cope with the changes the battles required have seen to it. That solution she received was just the first step, she felt.

Kerrigan and her army had then left the entrance, noticing an enormous chamber before them, large enough to fit an entire reach in the distance of it. She could see elevated ground, riddled with spire rocks, as well as crags below, filled with spires as well as Zerg intestines. She could see eggs close and by the distance, in their shapes and forms, but all emanating eerie-green light. The ground was rough but variated in elevations, so much in small hills as well as small holes filled with Zerg liquids, although those weren't emanating smoke like the infusion pond by her Hive Cluster was. Creep webbing could be seen on the corners of cliffs, on the walls and even on the ceiling far above, some being large enough to cover the diameter of manmade bridges.

The first egg cluster she's seen, close by, was by a small puddle, guarded by a few Zerglings and Roaches. It seemed Za'gara was indeed concerned with the security of the eggs, or the possibility of being stolen. She just didn't count on the amount of force that would come to collect it. She was competent, but didn't think ahead. This egg cluster had three egg nests, each with a varied number, but making a total of eight or nine eggs. This was a good number, considering the odds. Kerrigan advanced as did her assault force, and they immediately started their assault on the small number of enemy defenders. They were quickly surrounded and eventually fell by the number, as did those dozen, although three or four Zerglings were lost when the Roaches spilled their acid saliva on them. An acceptable loss.

The attack group approached the cluster as the Drones started collecting the eggs. Kerrigan noticed she'd have to make two trips for this one, as she only brought five Drones at the moment. She didn't notice much movement at the time, meaning it'd be safe for the moment to return.

The next ten seconds have proven her wrong. The increasing sound of paws beating against the ground, as well as feral roar, have caught Kerrigan's attention as she seen two large groups coming on her direction, from different sides. Zerglings, Hydralisks and Roaches.

Za'gara had made her move. Now, Kerrigan would make hers.

Kerrigan returned to the midst of the attack force as they roared in ferocity, a response to the enemies approaching them fast, from both sides. She prepared herself for the storm that'd shortly crash down on her head. Her minions, however, seemed already ready. It was like they were _born_ ready for things like this. To fight and die.

The moment the first Zerglings, whom were the fastest of the enemy groups, had approached the striking range of the Hydralisks and Roaches, the fight had started.

Hydralisks started shooting away their needle spines, as the Roaches started spitting their acid on the hostile Zerg. The Zerglings waited for the others to approach before lounging at the opponents. By then, chaos erupted, as it unfolded to a battle where blood and limbs flied, minions melted in acid or simply fell dead with several needle spines struck. In a historical context, such fight reminded the battles of medieval times, where the small horsemen, or wolves, if size mattered the tale, fought in vicious, visceral melee while the Hydralisks, the said '_archers_', fired their 'arrows' against the opponents. Zerglings, curiously, were the least affected by the strikes of Hydralisks when not in range, as their speed allowed them to outrun or dodge the needle spines fired. The acid saliva, however, unless they dodged a considerable distance, could not, and thus those affected tumbled in pain and agony as the acid corroded the carapace or burnt the flesh beneath it. Eventually, the wall between Zerglings started showing gaps and crumbling on both sides, allowing the Zerglings of both alignments to reach those shooting at them. In one such occasion, two Zerglings had attacked a Hydralisk, surrounding it and attacking as the beast attempted to fight back with it's hand-like claws, but to no avail, as the Hydralisk fell and the Zerglings viciously striked it with their claws and limbs. A Roach by which also came into conflict with two Zerglings was also attacked, although the result was different. The Roach had unleashed it's saliva on one Zergling, which then debated itself in pain, as it struck the other with it's scythe-shaped limb, immediately killing it, given how thick it was.

In the middle of it was Kerrigan, as she concentrated her powers on the fight at hand. She wasn't aware of whom was the friend or foe, so she was only retaliating at those whom first struck at her. It was hard fighting Zerg when they had no colors or logos to differ them. She reacted quickly as she unleashed her lightning on an approaching Zergling that was lounging in her direction. Another Zergling had come up in her direction and she equally fired back. She turned around, to the cave entrance, to notice new Zerg were coming out of it. Reinforcements, from her Hive Cluster whom now hatched a new set of minions. They immediately joined Kerrigan's attack group and started attacking targets of their own, making Za'gara's strike groups more and more thin. A Hydralisk roared close to her, looking at her, and obviously with not-so-good intentions. She grabbed the Hydralisk with her Crushing Grip and threw it away with relative ease, not minding at all if it was friendly or not because she couldn't.

Suddenly, a roar came afar, loud enough for Kerrigan to hear it. She turned around, by the roar's direction to see a sight of a fearsome, spider-like Zerg standing in a small hill. Spider-like in the sense of having six visible legs and a giant carapace for a head, riddled with thorns.

"What the hell is that?", Kerrigan asked, eyes widening at the new sight.

'_Lurker!_', Izsha suddenly shouted. '_Kill it, and do it fast, you do not want that thing burrowed below!_'

Listening to Izsha's suggestion, Kerrigan had then concentrated and fired a Kinetic Blast to the lurker afar, but she missed the target, as the Lurker started moving.

"_Damn!_", Kerrigan cursed, as she tried to concentrate again. But it was too late, as dust erupted, like lava splashes out of a volcano, right on the position where she's seen the Lurker. She could see one limb or two moving violently and beating the ground. It was like it was digging.

It was worse. It was burrowing, as Izsha had feared. When the dust settled, the Lurker couldn't be seen anymore.

Suddenly, something erupted violently from below the ground. A large spike, that extended above, with the intent to impale something or someone. However it also came down as another spike erupted a bit forward and so on, forward and forward. Forward towards Kerrigan's direction, like a wave.

She quickly ran aside as she seen that wave of spikes impale a Zergling, killing it and leaving it on the ground as the spike retracted.

"Great, it burrowed!", Kerrigan exclaimed to Izsha. "Now what!?"

'_Move away, damn it!_', Izsha shouted. '_Force it to root out!_'

Kerrigan began to run back, before realizing she was in the middle of a battle and that a wave of spikes was running in her direction. When a Hydralisk attempted to strike her with it's claws, she unleashed a lightning that made the Hydralisk recoil a bit in pain. Looking behind to see the spikes, she shifted left and then stopped. She hesitated a bit to see the Lurker was not there when suddenly she felt herself fall to the ground, a Zergling lobbing on her with enough strength to make her fall. Stranded by the Zergling on the top, Kerrigan unleashed a short quick lightning that wounded the Zergling a bit, making the beast angrier, but recoiling a bit as well. She then unleashed another lightning, a long one this time, that made the Zergling tremor, and it fell on top of her when she stopped firing. She was breathing heavily at the situation she's been. She pushed the carcass aside and went on her feet as she noticed a Hydralisk about to strike her when a Zergling lobbed forward and attacked the Hydralisk. Kerrigan was then quick to get on her feet and start attacking again. She made a turn when she spotted the Lurker again.

Kerrigan did not think twice to head to the beast's direction and give it all she got. On her way, another Zergling tried to lob on her, but she was quick to react by launching not one, but two quick lightning strikes at the small creature. She then concentrated, angry, as she saw the beast in clear sight and then unleashed another kinetic blast.

This one she didn't miss. The blast erupted with such an intensity and strength of her anger that it virtually blasted through the Lurker, as blood and chunks of it's former self flew everywhere, remaining only the six legs and the small base. She turned around to see more and more Zerg coming out of the entrance tunnel. More reinforcements.

Kerrigan took a breath and resumed the fighting, shooting down another two Zerglings. It was when she felt it again. That same feeling from those other caverns. She was feeling numb as the fever took control of her again. She could feel the weight of controlling Zerg growing lighter and lighter.

Her 'command self' was brewing again. Kerrigan wanted to snap out of it, when she remembered what Izsha told her about it.

_'One advice I'd give you, though, is when this opportunity appears again, let it run the errand.'_

_'Simply let it take control? Just like that?'_

_'It can save your life.'_

_'How can you be sure?'_

_'It did with me.'_

Kerrigan did nothing, then. She only just let it go.

* * *

Another wave had just left the Hive Cluster. More and more minions meant to get her prey. A battle had caught up close to an egg cluster, by the entrance where she was found. She had been putting up a tough struggle by now. This could be felt by the Lurker she just lost. Still, her numbers were dwindling so much as her Brood, but she had much more to spend. She wouldn't last long.

Za'gara's eyes ran through those of every minion on the battle, each one that was falling as quickly as when they arrived. One of them could see her fighting with what would be a portion of her psionic potential. Her eyes were glowing furiously as she struck down her minions at every turn. Still, despite all the fury and wrath, she wasn't as imposing as she was in the past. She would eventually fall, with the minions she was puppeteering for Izsha.

She could see more minions approaching from behind Kerrigan. More minions that would join the slaughter. These ones, however, were behaving differently, headed in a different direction. Za'gara knew what this meant. She still had it, as the Brood Mother had.

It was time to play accordingly.

* * *

Chaos and fury, blood and limbs. Acid saliva and needle spines flew randomly and all around. Minions died in brutal melee or at the shots fired, or even acid melting their bodies with the quick, violent chemical reactions.

But the focus of the combat was a singular human woman. One that was leading her minions into combat. One whom was unleashing her psionic potential at the renegade Zerg. A cluster of minions, of a few Zerglings, a Hydralisk and a Roach, was effortlessly lifted and then slammed back into the ground. A Zergling that was quickly approaching her was blasted back by telekinesis. Only that she wasn't doing it on her own, she was letting that 'command self' of hers do the work. She could see the new reinforcements circling around, flanking Za'gara's group and cutting it off to prevent retreat. She fired her lightning at the two Roaches ahead, stunning them as the Zerglings approached them and started striking their claws and limbs against the thick carapace. She waved her hand to the right, hitting a Zergling that was going to jump at her. The Zergling flew back, injured, at the strength of the person it was about to attack. Her eyes glowed even more brighter as she closed her hands into fists and then started forcing them, as two groups of renegade Zerg were caught by her psionic grip and equally slammed like the first one.

Kerrigan was amazed as she was shocked. She never knew she could do such things, to handle pockets at once and to know exactly whom to strike. The final numbers of Za'gara's Zerg were crumbling under the vicious assault of the few Zerg. Suddenly, a strange feeling took control of her, as she knew something was wrong. The reinforcements were supposed to arrive and aid the minions falling, to keep the fight concentrated by that egg cluster, whom now had only three or four eggs uncollected, as the Drones did not arrive. Kerrigan wouldn't let them until the 'coast was clear'.

She then realized. The Hive Cluster.

Kerrigan turned around to leave as some of her minions traveled back the tunnel entrance. They crossed the tunnel to notice Za'gara's minions had already arrived by the Hive Cluster. She grinded her teeth in anger as she let her minions into the attacking force. She noticed a Lurker walking by and already made up her mind. She unleashed her lightning on the creature, that debated itself with such a fury as she continued to unleash her might without mercy, pretty much like those creatures. The minions caught up with the attack force as Kerrigan approached them and unleashed her lightning. In the meantime, she commanded her Drones to start forming new structures. New Spine Crawlers, which would grant the Hive Cluster a degree of security while she was outside. An oversight Kerrigan herself should've remembered. But then she noticed she turned upwards, looking at one of the Overlords. Suddenly, as her mind opened contact with it, it also felt like if she was also controlling the minds of the minions it controlled. She was amazed how she was doing it, although she couldn't explain it right. She could control groups of minions from that Overlord alone. It even seemed Kerrigan's command self knew what it was doing, though Kerrigan's own self had no idea of this until now.

'_Damn._', Kerrigan thought. '_Didn't know I could do that._'

The command self then started doing things on it's own as it contacted the Overlords, such as spreading groups of Zerglings, Roaches and Hydralisks to other directions as a group remained in reserve, expecting another wave to come by and start a fight. Kerrigan realized the directions those other minions were headed towards other egg clusters guarded by Za'gara's minions, those whom did not join the battle that was brewing now. This was some strategy she never actually came to account for. This opened a light on Kerrigan's mind. No doubt Za'gara would be too concerned with getting her that she'd turn a blind eye concerning those eggs, not realizing Kerrigan wanted them as much as Za'gara needed them. This would let Kerrigan sneak in and steal eggs from under her.

'_That's clever._', Kerrigan thought, fascinated. '_I think Izsha was right to let it run the errand after all._'

'_Greetings._', Kerrigan then heard a voice on her mind, a flanged, female one, that disrupted her thoughts and brought her back in control. '_And welcome._'

"What the?", Kerrigan said, surprised and upset. "_Who's there_!? Who are you!?", she asked further, angry.

'_I thought you would recognize me._', the voice answered, in an evil tone. '_I bowed to you before... 'my Queen'._'

Kerrigan widened her eyes.

"You're..._"_, Kerrigan hesitated. "_You're Za'gara_?"

'_Yes._', the voice answered. '_And you will be my prize. The greatest honor I will have out of all Brood Mothers._'

"Over my dead body.", Kerrigan said. Za'gara, however, only laughed.

'_That is the idea, oh, Queen._', Za'gara said.

Kerrigan widened her eyes in horror. Now she had an idea of what Za'gara wanted.

_She wanted her dead_.

Kerrigan then heard feral roar afar, a bit beyond the entrance, with enough strength to let out echo. Another attack wave was incoming. She pressed her temples with both her hands as she looked below, to the ground. She then closed her eyes, attempting to concentrate.

"Come on, come back!", Kerrigan said to herself. "Come back!"

'_Come back what, Kerrigan?_', Kerrigan then heard Izsha say, on her mind. '_What's going on?_'

"Having a little command problem here.", Kerrigan said. "And right at the wrong moment..."

'_You let the command self run it's errand, didn't you?_', Izsha asked, suspicious.

"Well, I did.", Kerrigan answered. "And it sure paid out, but now it's gone and I can't get it back up."

'_Oh, this type of problem._', Izsha said, understanding it. '_Have you tried commanding the minions through Overlords?_'

"I didn't, but my command self did.", Kerrigan said. "It's just this complicated, all things at once, you know?"

'_Especially in a combat, I know._', Izsha answered, casually. '_What of the eggs? How much you managed to take?_'

"About eight, so far, before this whole mess started.", Kerrigan answered. "Za'gara is clearly after my hide. Might want to use it as a pelt coat or something."

'_Then she has her attention on you._', Izsha said. '_That's something we can use. Keep the battle centered on you, but at the same time try to to clear the egg clusters and see if you can sneak Drones to get the eggs._'

"My command self already did it.", Kerrigan answered, when she heard the feral roar again, but more louder, as it was closer. "But I'll take a look on that, once I'm done with the trouble incoming."

* * *

She could see the eggs hatching from the Hives and Hatcheries up close. Those eggs hatched faster than those spread out at the caverns, but it was all because of planning. Those eggs were an actual contingency plan to the troubles that could arise on the fallen Queen's throne-world. Troubles like the Terrans on the surface that now occupied the planet. Those eggs, if given time, would eventually hatch, or could even be brought to an infusion pond, if there was one, to quickly hatch those eggs with the proper catalyst. The next assault wave would eventually hatch and head out soon. Her opponent was competent, but predictable, like the rest.

What disturbed Za'gara a bit, however, were the attacks the minions on other places were suffering. Other places than in the main battle, along the cavern, especially those guarding the egg clusters. No doubt it was an effort by Kerrigan to attempt to spread her broodlings and fight alongside multiple sides, as it was normally done against Terrans. Or she would try to 'flank', as the Terrans themselves called the strategy of attacking by a soft side of her forces. Za'gara would not fall for that, she knew where the true focus was. In the primary battle.

She would not give a quarter to her enemy. Otherwise, Kerrigan would give none afterwards.

Such was how war worked out, as the fallen Queen had taught the first Brood Mother before.

* * *

Smoke erupted from the crisped carcass of the Zerg Hydralisk, whom she just destroyed after she concentrated her lightning on it. She felt tired as she looked ahead at the field of corpses of Zerg, whom were now being enveloped by the Creep the Lair and Hatcheries were producing, in an effort to consume the biomass available. She looked at the imposing, yet wounded tentacles forcing themselves above as they stood guard over their Hive Cluster, even after the battle they just faced. That was a close one. Were not for those Spine Crawlers, she wasn't sure the Hive Cluster was going to make it through that one. Still, for one as relentless as Za'gara, she knew this wasn't the end of it.

It was time to put the plan in action. She tried concentrating on one of the Overlords above her, having seen a bit of what her 'command self' had done, and, as it entered the mind of the hulking floating beast by ceiling, like a harmless balloon above, it was like she had the feeling of possessing multiple limbs and legs, scattered across the various regions of the cavern. She could see everywhere and nowhere, as well as sense the minions that Overlord kept control of, as they successfully secured the egg cluster somewhere in the cavern. She could see through their eyes, although they were either blurred or too focused or in a messed set of colors that Terrans would be able to read easily. That must have been one of the things only aliens like the Zerg could understand. Still, she could see they had succeeded in securing that egg cluster. As she tried to issue a command, suddenly all Zerglings started moving away from the cluster, supposedly intended on heading back to the Hive Cluster.

She then took her mind out of the Overlord, surprised and having learned much more than what she'd have in exhausting hours of study amongst Terrans. She then knew what to do, as she called in groups of Drones and started giving them orders. At least ten Drones had left the Hive Cluster as Kerrigan had the Larvae hatch more Drones as an insurance in the case of something that could go wrong. She had looked then through the minions close to her to see they had wounds of their own, but those were slowly mending. Their look was vicious and their will was strong.

So was hers.

Za'gara wanted a fight? She'd have to do better than that, then.

* * *

She had been standing there, doing nothing at all, watching. Waiting. Doubt and uncertainty clouded her mind as the tentacles moving around, non-stop, were such a mark of her nervous state. The sight of the hellscape before her did nothing to comfort her at all, nor ease the doubts. She could see little, but what she saw was what made her nervous. She feared she might have made a mistake. By what the Puppet Queen was telling, it seemed like both women hit a bee hive. Za'gara was handling more numbers and more resources than what she first expected. It was a fight too fierce.

Izsha feared that she sent Kerrigan far too soon. Maybe, if there was more time, more time to practice and train, she could have a chance. Many times, she forgot Kerrigan wasn't the Queen of Blades in the apex of it's power anymore.

A part of her told she should act, do something and help her out, but the other was talking her out of it. The other told that she'd go _soft_ with Kerrigan if she aided her, and she already did something not so pleasant with the leash loose. All she could do now was wait and see how it'd go.

Indeed, doubt and uncertainty were a psychological enemy far more greater. If there was something more powerful, it'd be new to Izsha as to everything and everyone in the universe.

* * *

Everywhere it looked, around it's sight, it could see forms like it's own, yet not like it's own. Still, they were moving aside, doubtlessly oblivious of the plans the voice it commanded through it's mind had. Despite the hostiles close and nearby, with a chance of being caught, it continued moving, as ordered. Such was it's pre-programmed nature. To follow without question until death. At it's front, it saw more of those forms, but those were like it's own, in all aspects. They were running towards those around it and itself, but those were not the enemy, nor it mattered to it. It only mattered what the voice ordered. It then approached the shapes desired by the voice, eggs clustered alongside a fabric of flesh and spikes. It's claws touched the green pupal orb, forcing it off the fabric with ease, like a nail cutter pulling out a loose nail, lifting it then backtracking the same course it came from, back to the Hive Cluster where it belonged.

'_Go to the location, collect the eggs, return to the Hive Cluster and drop the egg you are carrying into the infusion pond._', the voice instructed, again and again. '_Do not be seen by any minions belonging to Za'gara. Follow the path I made for you._'

The track the Drone was set to follow while it ferried the egg had caught, especially with the curves and turns, was a long one, but it never complained. A straight track would be the most logic option, but it was blocked by a fierce battle. Still, it never complained. The way the track it would travel did not matter, neither the combat or the carnage it's sight caught. Nothing mattered but what it was ordered and how it would be done. As ordered, it was not seen by Za'gara's minions as it made it's way back to the Hive Cluster, by the path it's Queen determined. It only obeyed. It felt no fear, it felt no doubt, it didn't think.

Such was like that with the Drone whom was carrying that egg. Such was like that with every Drone, carrying an egg and whatnot. Such was like that with about every minion in the Zerg Swarm, independent of the Brood.

Nothing mattered. Not even death. Only on what was the next task ahead.

* * *

A new assault force had just hatched and was moving outside, to the main battle past the entrances. At the same time, she could see the Drones approaching with more and more eggs. It was working. But it'd also be a matter of time until Za'gara discovered it. The battle had not ceased close to that egg cluster, but Kerrigan knew it was a bad idea to make assumptions. For all she knew, Za'gara could also be using that battle to her advantage, despite the fact that, so far, she hadn't replaced the guards lost by the egg clusters. Concerning strategy, Kerrigan could easily say she was walking on a mine field, where the wrong step can be the very last.

She approached the site of the infusion pond where the Drones begun to settle the eggs. The eggs were now starting to fill the pond site, about a quarter of it now filled with eggs of most sizes. Kerrigan breathed in relief that this effort was going forward. Maybe it'd be worth it after all. Still, it wasn't over, yet, as there'd be more to come.

"Izsha, it's me.", Kerrigan said as she touched her temple. "We're making progress on eggs. Have a small number, but it's a sign."

'_How many?_', Izsha asked.

"About twenty, thirty, I don't know.", Kerrigan answered.

'_Good._', Izsha said. '_And Za'gara?_'

"She's still striking, but so far she's been only onto it.", Kerrigan said. "It doesn't even seem like she knows I'm stealing her eggs. This can't be good."

'_If Za'gara knows, it won't_.', Izsha said. '_Anything changes, warn me_.'

"Anything else?", Kerrigan asked.

'_A dozen eggs when you'll get back, yes_?', Izsha said.

"What, you'll have an omelet for dinner, Izsha?", Kerrigan asked, playing along, knowing it was another one of her wisecracks.

'_Something like that_.', Izsha answered. '_Now, you're learning_.'

"**HEY!**", Kerrigan snapped. She then turned around, frustrated, as she touched the mind of the same Overlord she entered contact with before. She then guided forward the minions controlling it in an attempt to scout and discover new egg clusters.

The Zerglings started moving away from another egg cluster they just secured and moved onwards, to the left. Kerrigan could feel the sense of motion as she looked through the eyes of those Zerglings, moving on and around like wolves on the prowl, hungry and willing to put up a fight. On one of those runs she's seen, even though briefly, some of her Drones returning with new eggs to set by the infusion pond. More to add, gradually, as she tried to fetch those one hundred eggs. The pack then arrived by an occupied plateau, covered in Creep, although there was no visible loci, meaning it was probably underground. The plateau had a considerable number of egg clusters, three of them having five eggs each as others had two or three. One, by a corner, had only one egg. This particular egg, however, was one absurdly different from the others, as it was thicker, almost bubble shaped, and a bit more thicker and uglier than the others. It also emanated some particular smoke of a sort.

'_What the hell is that type of egg?_', Kerrigan thought, puzzled, as the pack then moved in to strike the defenders, when Kerrigan noticed what the defenders were. They were humanoid, although having vicious look and twisted forms, like claws and the presence of a few growths by their shoulders, despite these wore no CMC-300 armor. Close to them, were wreckage of metal, human, without any doubt at all. The wreckage was covered in Creep, forming webbing, as well as growing Zerg organs amidst the openings of the wreckage as well, breathing and pulsating with the strength of enlarged human organs.

Infested Terran personnel. Men and women, unarmed, whom suffered a fate worse than death. A fate Kerrigan knew there was only one way out.

'_Please, forgive me._', Kerrigan said, although in vain, as the Zerglings lobbed upwards and started attacking the infested, throwing them down and savagely eliminating them. She closed her eyes in guilt and pain. Even though she couldn't remember it, she knew it was the Queen of Blades, and that was a thing she did, even when she couldn't recall being present. Her Swarm. _Her responsibility_.

The infested, eventually, fell to the ferocity of those Zerglings, thus clearing the egg cluster site. Kerrigan would send in the Drones very soon, but now she was interested on that deformed egg. She psionically controlled that Zergling she was using the eyes on to approach the egg and take a closer look. However, the egg started convulsing on it's own, even though there was no touch. Worried, Kerrigan stepped the Zergling back, but to no avail, as the egg continued convulsing until it cracked open, green liquid and a cloud of smoke bursting out in every direction as the husk's remainder fell to the ground. Two seconds passed before what was inside the egg walked out and towards the group.

It was not just a creature, but _four_ of them, with an appearance somewhat menacing, despite it was the same size and stature as a Zergling. It's body was literally riddled with green orbs with a liquid of some sort, which could just not be good, and were even pulsating viciously. The largest orb could be seen in the behind of each and every creature, like a literal balloon filled with water, and about the same weight and instability as well. The few carapace it had, divided in 'veins', had almost nothing but a simple line of small curved spikes. Below the body, a small base with four insectile legs held the orbs aloft, along with a head that, despite having no eyes at all, shared the mouth and face jaws of the Zergling. They slowly approached the Zergling pack, and yet, Kerrigan couldn't know why they weren't attacking, neither the Zerglings under her control. Maybe her minions knew what they were dealing with, some self-preservation instinct within them. Kerrigan wasn't sure on either it should attack the new Zerg before her or wait and see what happens.

"Uhh, Izsha...", Kerrigan said, slowly, and doubtfully, as she continued to look at the creature. "Met something different here..."

'_Define 'different'._', Izsha replied.

"Small as a Zergling, four legs and virtually bloated with green sacs of some kind.", Kerrigan explained. "And they're staring at the pack I'm controlling."

'_Staring?_', Izsha asked. '_Where you found them?_'

"I was securing a new egg cluster site when I see a new strange type of egg.", Kerrigan said.

'_No..._', Izsha said, suddenly amazed. '_So here's where she's been keeping them, hasn't she?_'

"_You know those things_?", Kerrigan asked, suspicious.

'_Too well, and I think you'll like them._', Izsha answered. '_These are Banelings, a Zergling mutation._'

"Okay, and what do these do?", Kerrigan asked back, a bit nervous.

'_Short version?_', Izsha asked. '_Suicide bombers._'

Kerrigan's eyes widened.

"_You're kidding, right?_", Kerrigan asked, still nervous. "So you're telling me my pack is standing right before living bombs!?"

'_Calm down, Kerrigan, these didn't explode, did they?_', Izsha asked.

"Hell no, but they're sure _itching_ to!", Kerrigan exclaimed.

'_Well, that's good news, then._', Izsha said. '_They're yours._'

Kerrigan simply didn't understand the answer well.

"_Mine_?", she asked. "But- I thought they belonged to Za'gara, since they were on the eggs and such..."

Izsha chuckled.

'_Well, that'd be true if you were talking of eggs from a Hive Cluster._', Izsha explained. '_These Banelings, from the egg you hatched, grow and mature without an owner, until a psionic presence comes to trigger their hatch. The minions inside recognize it and immediately align. So, yes, you own them now, until they die._'

"Wow.", Kerrigan deadpanned. "And... _how much damage_ can they do?"

'_Well, they're bombs, Kerrigan._', Izsha said. '_The acid they'll splash will damage anything, but that includes your minions, too. I'd be a bit away if I were you._'

"Glad to hear it.", Kerrigan commented, when something hit her mind. "Wait a second... Think there might be more eggs like that?"

'_Well, could be._', Izsha answered. '_Why? You're not planning to steal Za'gara's property, are you?_'

"And I'm not stealing the eggs, already?", Kerrigan asked back.

A small pause then occurred before Izsha broke the silence.

'_I think I'm beginning to like you._', Izsha said. '_Now, I'm worried._'

Kerrigan couldn't hold a small smirk.

"Okay, I think I can do that.", Kerrigan asked. "Thanks, will keep in touch."

'_Just remember to bring one or two back to the Hive Cluster._', Izsha said. '_We can use their codes to make the Baneling Nest available to you._'

"Alright.", Kerrigan complied. "Will do."

Kerrigan then ordered the Zergling pack back to the Hive Cluster as the Banelings followed. First the Banelings started walking until they then started enveloping themselves into a ball, like a Brazilian three-banded armadillo, to then begin pushing themselves and roll across like a ball out of control, although they were controlling the speed to follow the Zerglings at every turn, curve, hill and slope. She then came across the battle that was still erupting by that first egg cluster, between her minions and Za'gara's, now littered with corpses both minions from both sides were stepping and slithering on. Some smoke could be seen as acid saliva was still burning through the carcasses of some minions when they missed.

Kerrigan then had an idea to test it out. After all, Izsha wanted one or two, so the remainder could be utilized. Besides, she wanted to see how much damage those Banelings could deal in the middle of a battle. She then left the Overlord where she was and started looking at the minds of all those Overlords that were floating and stacking by the ceiling, a probable of twelve to fifteen, on the hopes she could find whom controlled the Banelings. She went through a thorough search through four Overlords until she could then feel those Banelings, seeing them behind her as they already arrived with the Zergling pack. She ceased her contact and turned to see them, staring at her. She entered the mind of one she chose.

'_Come with me._', she ordered, psionically, as the Baneling then followed. The remainder was left behind as she entered the cave entrance with the Baneling behind her. It was not long until she could see the battle raging on.

'_Go._', she ordered. '_Strike them._'

The Baneling questioned nothing and did not hesitate when it unleashed a loud screech and walked forward, and then rolling to the middle of the battle. Kerrigan found it a bit funny on how such a creature so small, yet as deadly as the remainder, could mobilize itself without having to slow down the march of the group it would be in. Maybe it was all thought of, especially concerning mobility it seemed. But it didn't take long before it happened, right in the middle of the battle.

The largest, green-colored explosion that could be seen right by that egg cluster, that even made Kerrigan's eyes widen as corrosive acid flew and showered around the battlefield. Smoke gathered up as roar of anguish and pain then erupted, from both sides, as Kerrigan's minions ran besides her to join the battle, seeing the scales have turned to their Queen's favor. It was as powerful and amusing to watch as was shocking and horrifying, a literal translation of the 'shock and awe' meaning, although there was no fire involved, but acid. Those hit by it were debating in complete agony as the liquid burned and corroded through them, in a speed more faster and effect more stronger than that of the Roach's saliva.

"Damn...", Kerrigan commented, dumbstruck on what she saw, as she turned around to return to the Hive Cluster.

* * *

"_What was that_!?", asked one angry and surprised Za'gara, as she felt a shockwave that only would be explained when an enough quantity of minions were lost all at once. Such now occurred to her, as the gathered psionic backlash had struck her as something she would not expect of Kerrigan. The only way possible for this to happen was if an explosion occurred.

Explosion from either an artillery or... a Baneling.

Za'gara was dumbfounded, as well as surprised. If Kerrigan had Banelings at her disposal, why hasn't she used them before, during the main battle? Doubtless this would have given her an advantage, one she could use to push into the Hive Cluster. Za'gara suspected something. This was _not_ common amongst Zerg, but Kerrigan was no pure Zerg, either, not even when she ruled the Swarm with an iron fist. She was a Terran as well, and Terrans have a sense of unpredictability the Zerg were well aware of. And such was the moment, when the Banelings appeared now, not after. And well aware Za'gara had none, neither was using any.

The suspicion itself grew at the manner Kerrigan was behaving at the very battle. Something was far from right since it began. Ever since she retreated from the battle to defend her Hive Cluster, the fallen Queen had not appeared since to help tip the scales of battle. Minions had been striking different locations, particularly those defending the egg clusters, but Za'gara believed those were in hopes of spreading her brood thin. And now, when the time was barely expected, she utilizes Banelings later instead of earlier. _Unless..._

"No.", Za'gara said, as she entered the mind of a few Zerglings that were headed to the main battle. "This is impossible..."

She started looking through the trusting eyes of those minions as she directed them away from the primary battle. They started walking across the gigantic central chamber, past the hills, slopes and small puddles, to a place she knew it could not be true. The pack then arrived by a site of a few egg clusters. There, Za'gara had seen what she lest thought the most.

She saw a line of Drones ferrying something that belonged to her. Drones that did not belong to her. A sense of anger at how fooled she was started building up on the Brood Mother as she then looked at the egg cluster, whose flesh bases were now devoid of any eggs. Amongst those bases, as the remainders of an egg hatched, being slowly consumed by Creep. An egg she recognized. And that only stirred her wrath further.

"_No..._", Za'gara started, her furious tone increasing. "_Not my **EGGS!**_"

Za'gara then let out a furious roar the echoed across her chamber and the next. Livid, she started debating herself into the ground, her limbs violently pounding the ground beneath her non-stop, excavating it, as a curtain of dust erupted high, blocking all vision. It all made sense to her now, a light clearing her mind of the events before her. The battle wasn't the concern. _It never was_. It was an effective distraction so the breed she had plans for could be stolen. As were those Banelings, no doubt. And she blindly refused to see, throwing wave after wave at Kerrigan and ignoring the egg clusters, thinking the fallen Queen wouldn't do something about that. She predicted Kerrigan would foolishly just send minion after minion, like in the Terran's assault to her primary Hive. Kerrigan had outsmarted Za'gara, no doubt, the Brood Mother recognized that.

The dust that ceased after, as Za'gara was nowhere to be seen, was a testimony the Brood Mother would allow herself to be outsmarted no longer.

* * *

Alongside the banks of that first egg cluster, close to Kerrigan's supposed Hive Cluster, a literal pile of carcasses had filled practically where mere liquid was. Blood and acid were everywhere as the battle violently raged on, even as the roar in the background had erupted, increasing the ferocity of the breed loyal to Za'gara to the fight. Kerrigan's minions equally fought fiercely, in a simple skirmish, but one with a level of death, decay and violence that could match the most bloodthirsty battle the Terrans ever fought, in any age. Although, obviously, movement was now complicated, given the bodies the minions had to step or slither above, the battle continued with a violence, like if there was no tomorrow or after to fight, as well as no rationalization to such violence.

It was _hatred. Pure, animal hatred._

However, something occurred that even the most sentient Zergling under Kerrigan's control could not fathom.

Suddenly, the minions belonging to Za'gara scattered, turning around and fleeing the battle. Kerrigan's minions took pursuit to the closest and the slowest, that eventually fell as the others managed to escape, leaving the Queen's minions alone on the bloodied field.

The minions, however, did not pursuit. They simply remained there, awaiting their orders.

* * *

A furious, booming roar had reached her ears as she turned around to identify the source of the furious roar. Given it was afar, it was from the other side of the cavern entrance, perhaps on the other side of the great chamber. And, given the strength of the roar, either it was something big or something furious. Probably both, knowing the Zerg. That meant something, for Kerrigan. She must've gotten up on Za'gara with that Baneling. It was, at the same time, a good and a not so good news.

She could see the new line of Drones come by and drop the eggs they have collected by the infusion pond. More than half the pond was now filled with eggs. Halfway to get an army with which to deal with Za'gara. Kerrigan felt that, despite some incoming trouble here and there, it'd end just fine.

A small screech, yet audible at Kerrigan's distance, had put an end to that feel. She turned the other way around, her back to the infusion pond, to see, by the Hive Cluster, that enormous amount of Drones, all just standing there, staring at her, like if they were waiting for something. All those groups of eyes were staring at her, not changing their evil-looking mood at all.

Kerrigan didn't like it. She was as unnerved by the looks they gave her as well as she was dumbfound as to why they were there, all idle.

"_What the_...", Kerrigan murmured. "Why aren't they _working_?"

She walked towards them, perhaps fearing a revolt of a sort. She never expected the Drones to do such a thing, it didn't even seem they had any problems with hard work at all. She touched her temple as she focused on the mind of one of those Drones, amongst those twenty or thirty.

'_What is going on?_', Kerrigan asked, psionically. '_Why aren't you working?_'

Kerrigan received no answer, neither from a feral growl or a psionic one, however.

'_Look, I don't know what's it with you, but you picked a really wrong time for this._', Kerrigan said. '_Get back to work, now._'

The Drone she contacted then let out an angry screech, like it was protesting or something.

'_Is that a no!?_', Kerrigan exclaimed. '_Why?_'

The Drone, however, said nothing. Instead, it turned around and headed back to it's worksite. The other Drones, however, did not move, but gave room for the Drone to pass as it went backwards. The row however, remained open, and, after traveling a bit, the Drone stopped moving and turned to face Kerrigan. Dumbfounded, Kerrigan took a while to try and figure out what was going on. It seemed the Drone wanted her to follow it. That was quite odd, she thought, as she never have had a problem so far with the Drones. Dumbstruck, she started walking towards the Drone, although slowly. Both then headed into the chamber that contained the mineral fields they should be extracting.

As she entered the chamber, she only noticed rock upon rock in a cave where blue crystals, of several shapes and forms should be. Kerrigan's eyes widened. The Drones _did_ have a problem.

They had _nothing_ to mine, anymore.

"Oh, great...", Kerrigan mumbled, worried, as she then turned around to leave the chamber, walking in hurried steps to the ramp leading to the cave entrances. "Izsha, are you there?"

'_All the time, I'm so stuck I can't move._', Izsha answered. '_What is it_?'

"Uhh, I got a little doubt here.", Kerrigan started, nervous. "You Zerg extract minerals because you _need_ them, right?"

'_Well, we do need them. That's what we make our sturdier carapaces and claws of._', Izsha answered. '_What kind of a stupid doubt is that about, Kerrigan?_'

"I think we're spent.", Kerrigan answered.

'_You're what!?_', Izsha snapped. '_You already used everything in there!?_'

"Well, the amount of Drones just sitting by and doing nothing seems to tell something about it.", Kerrigan answered. "Is it bad?"

'_As bad as losing Overlords!_', Izsha exclaimed, angry. '_The next minions you grow will be either too weak or won't form up at all if there's no mineral solution left._'

"_And you say that to me_,_ now_!?", Kerrigan exclaimed back, nervous, as she rested her left hand by her thick 'hairline'. "Well, what do I do, now?"

'Well, _newsflash_, your majesty, there's no _easy_ way about that.', Izsha said, annoyed. 'You'll have to find another mineral site and build on there.'

"One that's not taken by Za'gara, you mean?", Kerrigan asked. "Can I ask you how? There might not be another mineral site, for all I know!"

'_Go the good_, _old-fashioned way_, _smarty_.', Izsha said, ironically. '_Get looking_, _then_, _get building_.'

"_Yeah, easy for you to say_.", Kerrigan gruntled, as she started walking to the exit.

'_Well, it's a little *hard* for me to go to a walk, I'm sure you'll sympathize._', Izsha answered back, sarcastically.

Kerrigan, whom was already nervous with the fact she'd have to do something concerning the lack of resources, had then crossed the tunnel to see the last thing she expected or wanted. She looked at a battle that wasn't raging on anymore. There was a literal sea of carcasses, both of minions that were hers and Za'gara's, as well as her army standing on it's feet, but nothing else more.

"Shit.", Kerrigan said, out loud.

'_What_?', Izsha asked, sounding suddenly caught. '_What is it, now_?'

"Za'gara's not attacking anymore.", Kerrigan said. "I think she found it all out."

'_Get moving quick then, dammit_!', Izsha urged, alarmed. '_There's no telling what she'll do, and we better be ready when she does_!'

"_I'm trying, Izsha_!", Kerrigan exclaimed, angry, as she continued moving. The force of minions, noticing the presence of the Queen, started following her as she went to her right, by a small depression that led to other sections of the cave. Making a turn, seeing a clearing with a few rocks, a group of Zerglings with two Hydralisks attempted to advance on her, letting out roar. She unleashed her lightning on one of the Hydralisks as the minions behind her attacked the remainder. The enemy quickly fell as Kerrigan moved forward, in the search for a new mineral site.

Suddenly, something happened. A burst erupted right on front of Kerrigan, with enough strength to pull Kerrigan backwards, like an artillery blast, making her fall with her back on the ground. Several Zergling flew as well everywhere, some getting killed from the brute force trauma or impaled into the near rock spires. The remainder of Kerrigan's minions roared in ferocity and anger at the risen dust that was now shifting. Kerrigan herself quickly got on her feet, her eyes widening as she looked the dust that was fading. She saw a shade of a creature large, taller than her and imposing.

As the dust cleared, Kerrigan could see what she was facing. Or better, who. Her opponent was as alien in it's 'feet' as was partly human in it's upper body stature and tendril hair. The remainder was clearly that of a monster, with a head as thick, long and large, supporting a small face with jaws larger than those of Hydralisks and glowing eyes and no nose or mouth, reminding slightly a Protoss. The head carapace above had a line of increasing horns from back to forth, the forward of which extended larger, like the horn of an unicorn. Two extensions tethered at the sides of the head, forming some sort of a natural crown. The body had two humanoid arms of their own, although the hands and fingers were alien without any doubt at all. The back of the body had two abnormally large insectile grasper limbs, as well as two other, thicker limbs, whom had some sort of an ornamental sense than an actual combat purpose. The front of the creature's 'waist' had two limbs that no doubt were for scavenging carcasses or attacking up close. The lower body was insectile, it's back featuring a row of green pustules with a liquid of some sort, that connected to a line of spines behind as well as an alien tail that bore a three-toothed claw of some sort. The lower body was supported by six insectile legs, distributed like spiders, with each joint having a spike of their own. A tissue of flesh akin to that of Drones connected the gaps between the legs, with exception of the creature's front, forming a dress of some sort.

But the creature's mind was what troubled Kerrigan the most, because it could think. It could think and feel and, most troubling of it all, it rationalized. It was sentient. Kerrigan could easily take a guess on who she was facing, given all the thoughts and ambitions and plans.

She was face to face with her target.

Za'gara, the renegade Brood Mother. The Brood Mother that, though it had no mouth, was chuckling and giggling as her face jaws moved, like a mouth would.

"You will forgive me if I do not _bow_.", Za'gara said, ironically, at the small creature before her.

Shocked and nervous, her heart racing more than ever, Kerrigan tried to display no sign of intimidation as she looked at the large creature before her. But it was a bit difficult, given it's size and how mighty and seemingly powerful 'she' was.

"_You're big_...", murmured Kerrigan, frozen, hoping Za'gara wouldn't listen.

"And you were powerful, oh Queen.", Za'gara replied. "Now, look at yourself! You now are but a _shadow_ of your glorious past. A past I'll assure you won't return!"

"I'm...", Kerrigan hesitated, as she struggled to get a grip of herself. "_I'm not looking for a fight, Za'gara_!"

"Oh, but I am, _oh Queen_.", Za'gara said, with disdain, an evil look piercing through her. "And I am looking for something _more_! Return my eggs you have taken, _now_!"

"_Your eggs_?", Kerrigan asked, ironically. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I saw a label with your _name_ on them."

"_You Terrans and your witty replies_!", Za'gara boasted, with a tone of bravado within her voice. "Boast all you want, stripling, let it be your epitaph!"

"_Don't do it, Za'gara_!", Kerrigan warned, her fist closing as she slowly tried to get into a fighting stance. "I swear, I'll _end_ you if I have to! Just... Just give up, turn in and nothing's gonna happen!"

Za'gara let out a furious growl.

"_Me, following a weakling_!?", Za'gara asked, furious. "_Preposterous_! I am a Brood Mother, small creature! I am THE Brood Mother! The pinnacle of Zerg evolution and the successor to the fallen ruler of the Swarm!"

"Well, _tough break_, then, monster!", Kerrigan exclaimed, getting angry, her eyes starting to glow. "Your predecessor is very much alive!"

"Not for long, Kerrigan!", Za'gara said, her limbs raising upwards in preparation to strike. "And when your carcass returns to that weakling fool Izsha, please, do tell her how pathetic HER CHOICE WAS!"

While saying the three final words, Za'gara lounged at Kerrigan, the grasper limbs and their fearful spear-like tips dropping down on her. Eyes widening, she jumped back as her minions, two Zerglings at least, lounged at the Brood Mother. Za'gara furiously responded in force, as one of the ornamental limbs waved forward, attacking the Zergling and pushed it aside, killing it. The other, whom was below, as struck by the scavenging limbs and equally killed.

"Get her, quick!", Kerrigan shouted, as the Hydralisks fired first their needle spines, some of them hitting the Brood Mother, whom backed off in pain, but quickly recovered as she suddenly unfolded and let out an invisible shockwave, as well as the loudest roar Kerrigan could hear. The shockwave hit Kerrigan, whom pressed both her hands on her head, in great pain, as the minions had backed off and screamed in pain as well. Za'gara, seeing the opportunity, advanced on Kerrigan, trying to hit her close, but the Queen noticed it in time and jumped to her right, dodging the attack. Around her, a group of Za'gara's minions closed in on Kerrigan's forces, some minions falling quickly as they were stunned as the remainder returned to their senses and started striking back, although still recovering.

As she missed her target, Za'gara started to look where her prey was, shortly before she was hit on the face by a lightning fired by her opponent. Za'gara recoiled in pain as Kerrigan prepared to unleash a stream of continuous lightning. The Queen let out the newfound power she had, as Za'gara struggled through the pain and wounds for a moment before striking the grasper limbs again at Kerrigan, whom ceased fire to dodge, falling and rolling to the right. Za'gara quickly turned to face her opponent, whom quickly got on her feet and faced the Brood Mother, both in a fighting stance and awaiting the next move.

"Those minions belong to me, stripling.", Za'gara growled. "The Swarm belongs to me!"

"That's funny, given it's_ me_ who's got the eggs!", Kerrigan answered, angry, facing her.

"Just because you stolen my breed does not mean you control the Swarm once more!", Za'gara roared as she lounged at Kerrigan again. The Queen responded by sending out another stream of continuous lightning that caught Za'gara. The Brood Mother yelped in pain as she struggled, managing to let out a grasper limb at Kerrigan, whom was forced to jump behind. Kerrigan tried striking again, but Za'gara rushed forward, hitting Kerrigan, having her fly behind, hitting a wall, violently. To her right, a Zergling lounged at Za'gara and grabbed her ornamental limb, as she then waved back and flew the Zergling back. Three other Zerglings joined the former one as they advanced at Za'gara, whom quickly reacted. Her grasper limbs struck the first two Zerglings, impaling them, as the third was pushed aside when it tried striking the ornamental limb. The fourth, however, managed to jump on her feminine torso frame, the Zergling roaring against her face. Za'gara used her thin arms to push the Zergling aside, after a lengthy struggle, allowing her to end the insolent's life with her scavenging limbs.

Kerrigan, whom slowly got on her feet in pain after the shock of the wall behind her, had seen Za'gara handling a few of her minions. Her teeth grinded as she saw her opponent with predator eyes. She wiped the small stream of blood coming out of her mouth and rushed forward, her eyes glowing. She let out a Kinetic blast that ripped apart Za'gara's left ornamental limb. The Brood Mother recoiled in sudden pain as Kerrigan then let out two short lightning bursts that made Za'gara recoil further backwards, as Kerrigan then began to let out her continuous lightning, with both her hands. Za'gara spasmed and debated in pain, trying to struggle but unable to, as Kerrigan pressed forward. However, Kerrigan was thrown aside, falling down when a Zergling jumped on her and buried it's paw talons on her shoulders, making her growl in pain as small streams of blood ran out the bolt-sized holes. The attacking Zergling let out a roar before it was pulled aside by another Zergling, whom pinned it down and started attacking viciously until it was through.

Seeing and eventually grasping the opportunity, Za'gara started debating itself on the ground, the legs and limbs scavenging through the ground viciously as dirt flew high. Getting on her feet quickly, Kerrigan saw she was trying to pull back. Kerrigan tried running, but then heard a feral roar and stopped, turning to see three Zerglings were running towards her. She reacted and shot her lighting on two of them, but the third was real close and her left arm grabbed it, so she waved it and slammed the Zergling down like a ragdoll, pulling it off. She let out a quick lightning on it, then, ending it before it could react.

Kerrigan turned around and saw the dust was already shifting and fading. Za'gara was nowhere to be found. Kerrigan only looked angry at it as her wounds closed off and took a first deep breath.

"_Coward bitch_...", she mumbled, as she turned around to see the very few minions belonging to Za'gara were now falling, despite the fact Kerrigan's minions suffered their losses.

Kerrigan took another deep breath. Then turned around and began to run forward, crossing to another clearing forward, where only a few Zerglings stood by. She struck first, killing two of them before the rest went to react and run to her. Kerrigan quickly ended the rest. She arrived to the center of the clearing where she could then see something different. She could see blue crystals on the ground corners, by the walls, some of them supported by a rocky base with very small veins. She breathed relived as she touched her temple.

"Izsha...", Kerrigan started. "I found the minerals."

'_Well, that's good._', Izsha said. '_Get building, then._'

"Mind a two minute break, please?", Kerrigan asked, looking upwards, to the ceiling.

'_What, it's a long walk_?', Izsha asked back, sarcastically.

"No, almost got my ass kicked.", Kerrigan answered.

* * *

Pain yelped at her and continued aching as Za'gara erupted within the safe confines of her Hive Cluster, where more and more minions were being hatched. They were running besides her, by the landbridge entrance, although not for assaulting Kerrigan, but for securing what she hadn't lost... yet. The destroyed ornamental limb continued to ache as she spasmed heavily, the breath equally violent as her skin attempted to absorb as much air as possible. She let out a shriek of pain as her alien hands had shut tight, trying to perform that painful ritual again and again. Something she learned as she fought a vicious Dominion assault the last two days, before one of her Hive Clusters was lost and she was forced to retreat.

She was outmatched and outpowered, something she did not believe it was possible. The weakling Queen was not so weak, after all. It only got worse with the loss of that limb. In a part, she knew the fault was of her breed, whom came to assist her. But a few Zerglings could be dealt with. Still, the distraction was enough to fool her. It costed the limb, but it could've costed more. Perhaps it was wise to have gathered a large army to meet her, but, by the extension Kerrigan was stealing the eggs from under her, there'd be little to no time. If Kerrigan knew of the infusion pond and how to use it, the worse would come knocking at her very doorstep.

From the side, the damaged ornamental limb had pulled itself out, leaving a hole where it was. But not for long, as something began to form and creep slowly out of the hole, extending itself in a curve as it took the place of the former limb. A new ornamental limb was formed, one exactly the other was prior to the battle. The pain was immense, but began to subside as Za'gara struggled to recover.

'_So powerful..._', Za'gara wondered, hesitating and fightning to believe it. '_How can she still have so much power? I thought the artifact Izsha spoke of had neutralized her potential!_'

Za'gara then recovered herself, starting to look forward, but no longer with defying eyes, but ones of worry. It was powerful, actually, how a near-death situation usually could change one person's perspective entirely, even if he was an alien. Or she.

She then made her mind. She concentrated as the Drones whom were slowly harvesting the mineral fields by the Hive behind her had ceased their activities and traveled towards her. The Larvae by had formed new eggs, but not to form new fighting minions.

'_Go, my children, and quickly!_', Za'gara ordered, seemingly alarmed. '_Collect the eggs yet unclaimed and return them to here. Here, where is the safest place of all..._'

Za'gara only watched as the Drones floated besides her and proceeded to the goal set by their mistress. A new set of minions was hatching. She would keep those here, in case Kerrigan decided to be more bold as she was, before. She expected the small creature would run to safety, like most Terrans do, but she fought back. And fought back like a Zergling would an Ultralisk. But the Zergling had powers none could fathom. And now, here Za'gara was, more alert and distressed than ever.

She knew now was the only way of fighting her. If she couldn't avoid the catastrophe incoming, she could, at least, _minimize_ it.

She couldn't recover the eggs Kerrigan stole. The Queen wouldn't let her.

But Kerrigan would not steal new ones, either.

* * *

An explosion and bursting of the new structural cocoon, the largest she's seen, so far, had relieved Kerrigan of the burden she'd have to face if there was no new resources to depend to. Creep started raining very close to the newly built Hatchery, a result of the cocoon 'opening' as Kerrigan stepped back and saw the Drones approach and start extracting the new mineral fields, brutally striking the blue crystals with their resistant claws, when they saw it. Kerrigan would then need to have the Drones make new Spine Crawlers, a means of security. If Za'gara realized how short Kerrigan was on what she needed, the Brood Mother could use it to her advantage.

Seeing the large extension of the chamber, and the fact the Hatchery was producing Larvae right there, on that ground slate clean, as well as producing Creep to feed the soil off it's nutrients to the Zerg, Kerrigan realized she could have some eyes on the sky, a scouting balloon of a sort, allowing her an advantage on information. Kerrigan immediately ordered a Larva to make a new Overlord as the other Larvae went to make new minions, one making a pair of Zerglings while the other was hatching a Roach. Then, she called two Drones and had them make the Spine Crawlers. All the while, she waited as she heard and saw the new line of minions approaching, Zerglings, Roaches and Hydralisks all approaching to join her and await the next attack.

A large shadow covered the ground as the Overlord above had began to float to a decent height, even higher than on the tighter ceiling where the primary Hive Cluster was. Kerrigan concentrated on it, touching her temple, as she began to see through the eyes of the Overlord. It was a bit too over-focused, tunneled, as it looked through the otherwise readable cavescape Kerrigan was now enjoying to see. The fact the Overlord could see through the pitch black darkness beyond only contributed to the information she was now receiving of her surroundings. She could see the cliffs riddled with rock spires and spikes across the cavern, as well as the liquid puddles, hills, crevices and slopes below, so small they were from the high the Overlord was. Kerrigan could see the littered battlefield that took place by that egg cluster, not a few minutes ago, the corpses and carcasses, combined with the amount of blood that looked like a big black stain on an otherwise _clean_ area. She could see the areas where her Drones picked up the eggs to fill the infusion pond, how small the spots where the egg clusters were, with their dark flesh color alone and no more green, as those were taken. Kerrigan then decided to look a bit afar, to areas where she could spot new locations and new eggs to catch.

She could see two large reaches afar, close to a supposedly large gorge connected by a land bridge, letting out mist of some sort, some gas property related to the cavern. She could see Creep by a corner of the bridge and larger Zerg shapes, though, at times the mist broke. Perhaps it was where Za'gara was nesting at, perhaps not. But what mattered were the eggs, now. However, she's seen a line of minions of the types she was aware of, Zerglings, Hydralisks and Roaches, as they traveled outside the land bridge, but not in the direction of Kerrigan's positions. They instead made a sharp turn to the left, approaching the second large reach, an open one, that already had a considerable number of Zerg defending it. Kerrigan believed this didn't make any sense, given the amount of Zerglings, Roaches, Hydralisks and even infested Terrans defending it, but what she saw next gave her a motive and an alarm.

She could see Drones in there. Drones that were doing what her own minions did.

They were extracting the eggs themselves, pretty much like she did.

"Dammit!", Kerrigan shouted, as she then started relaying orders to her minions to start attacking the reaches and kill the Drones at all costs.

'_What?_', Izsha asked, out of nowhere. '_What is it, this time?_'

"She's collecting the eggs!", Kerrigan shouted, alarmed.

'_What!?_', Izsha snapped. '_And you're just standing there!? DON'T LET HER!_'

"What do you think I'm doing, I came to know about that now!", Kerrigan protested, in defense.

'_We need those eggs, Kerrigan!_', Izsha hammered on Kerrigan's head. '_Do you understand that!? We NEED the eggs! It's no good Za'gara having those numbers all for her._'

"_I know, Izsha_!", Kerrigan snapped. "I'm_ trying_ to get them! Just give me room to do my job!"

Kerrigan let out a heavy breath in frustration. It was already hard having to command those creatures, but the last thing she needed was someone on her heels _barking_ out what was too obvious. She entered the Overlord's mind to oversee the battle and command the Zerg like her command self did before. She sent out two separate groups intended to clear both clearings, on the hopes both groups would break through and force Za'gara to spend some of her strength, as pressure was delivered. By one of the entrances, close to the right clearing, she's seen more of those eggs where the Banelings were stored, under heavy guard. No doubt Za'gara would try to unleash them, if Kerrigan got close or try something. She'd need to do something about that. There was only one option. A quick, swift, brutal strike. She gathered a large amount of Zerglings from the group that'd strike one of the clearings and re-directed it to that entrance. She had them in position for an attack before she unleashed them.

The defense of that entrance, that had a fierce guard of numerous Zerglings and some Roaches in the back, had the advantage of the choke point, however. The Zerglings, whom had no room to maneuver, were forced into a choke point, facing the Zerglings upfront while the Roaches spit their acid, damaging one or two Zerglings at a time. The barrier, however, was strong, but not invincible, and it eventually fell as the Zerglings approached the Roaches and subdued them, thanks to the wonders of strength by numbers. One of the Roaches attempted to pull back in an effort to hatch the Banelings, but the Zerglings catched up to it and put it down as well. The eggs spasmed, but have not hatched while Zerg from both sides battled. When Za'gara's minions fell, the eggs hatched and the Banelings behaved normally in comparison with their not so new companions.

Outside, the first of the clearings was still strong and secure, the assault having failed. The other, however, that seemed to have more than ten eggs, was under a fierce battle. The Drones belonging to Za'gara were either trapped or could not enter. A portion of Kerrigan's minions had been moving to intercept the other Drones before they could ferry the eggs back to the Hive Cluster past the landbridge. In the far back, a force of Drones were moving to get the eggs as soon as they had the chance, and thus escort them back to her infusion pond. What was a battle between two Zerg leaders had now transitioned to something more different, one that involved the worker strain from both sides, both fighting to see who could secure the most. A game of Drones. Kerrigan had a very good lead, but Za'gara had now learned, and it was a mistake now to take the Brood Mother for a fool.

The Queen could see the battle for the clearing was faltering on her side. The defenders were many. But she had something else. Something she tested and it worked, perhaps too well. Thus, she sent one of the Banelings to the battle as she pulled the attack force back. The defenders made the mistake of pursuing, and Za'gara did not realize until it was too late. The Baneling explosion had caught a large quantity of Zerglings as they flew in most directions possible along with the acid. Acid that rained too on the infested Terrans, Hydralisks and Roaches, that debated in pain of the acid corroding their carapace and burning living flesh. Kerrigan resumed the attack, that now had some odds in her favor. She saw she had new minions available, ready to be used. She sent those reinforcements to the battle, where the defenders of that set of egg clusters were gradually succumbing to the aggressive assault. However, as she looked around, she could see a new wave also coming out of Za'gara's Hive Cluster. A wave that included a Lurker, which would tip the odds. Some Zerglings, as well, were diverting to attack the Drones on the way to pick up the eggs from Za'gara's Drones, killed in action. Kerrigan was forced to divert the reinforcements to intercept and, hopefully, eliminate the Lurker while having a small pack of Zerglings intercept the harassing hostiles and protect the Drones. The worker minions had picked up four, five eggs that Za'gara collected, but could not ferry back before they were torn apart.

On the clearing, the line of Zerg defenders was now growing thin and opening gaps, as Zerglings could now pass through and start attack others, like the Drones. Kerrigan sent the Drones whom weren't carrying anything at all to collect the egg cluster, knowing it was now available and Kerrigan was coming closer to her goal. When that clearing was cleared of it's eggs, she'd then strike the other, although Za'gara had collected some eggs of her own. Now, there was just a few on the other clearing, but even so it was of little concern. Kerrigan had the number advantage she needed. Close by, she could see the reinforcements to the supposed attack were fighting but also fighting, rows of subterranean spikes piercing, impaling and cutting through some minions. The Lurker had managed to burrow. Following Izsha's advice from before, she pulled the reinforcements back, with Za'gara's minions in hot pursuit. Predictably, once it was out of it's striking range, the Lurker unburrowed and started closing in again, letting itself get vulnerable to attack. Kerrigan had the minions stop of a sudden and start fighting back, getting Za'gara's minions by surprise. Several fell before the remainder started to fight back. The Lurker was getting closer. She diverted the task force to intercept the Lurker, flanking it, as the Drones were almost done extracting all of the eggs in the clearing. The Zerglings were the first to arrive, already jumping at the spider-like Zerg like rabid stray dogs, starting to claw their way through the thick carapace head as the Lurker struggled to burrow beneath it. But it almost managed to. Close by, the last of Za'gara's reinforcement minions, a Roach, drew it's last breath and acid saliva, melting a poor Zergling by.

Behind her minions, she could see the line of Drones now backtracking back to base, eggs being held as tightly as football players holding them, to protect from the other team. Kerrigan could count more than ten on the eggs, but, by the time she was finished counting, they were eighteen. She diverted both the reinforcements and the strike force to start attacking the other clearing.

She was too close now. She was nearly done.

Then, she'd hatch them.

Then, it'd be all to handling Za'gara.

* * *

Za'gara was watching, although in nervousness and despair. The battlefield was now crumbling before her. Her defenders were falling. Her eggs were getting lost by the minute. Only a few could be returned and secured inside her Hive Cluster. She's seen Kerrigan now had total and complete advantage. The first clearing had fallen, Kerrigan has noticed and seen to it. The other would not hold for long. Her Drones were intercepted and neutralized with a capacity that was only seen by the Queen of Blades in her most furious days, during the Brood War. The attacks were not only strong, but coordinated.

Za'gara could feel the end approaching. She wouldn't collect the Queen. The Queen would collect her, instead. And not even the most effective of minions, the Lurker, was helping either. Kerrigan knew how to neutralize it, apparently. She controlled the field as she controlled the battlefields of Korhal, Tarsonis, Braxis and even Char during the civil war with the Cerebrates and the United Earth Directorate expedition. Her numbers outnumbered three to one against the Brood Mother, when, before, it was the other way around.

She should've seen the rot before it spread. Instead, her pride and confidence on Kerrigan's apparent weakness blinded her until it was too late to open the eyes and see the real scenario. She, curiously, felt in the same position the Queen of Blades should have been when she was fighting to prevent the infernal alien artifact from firing, as Izsha told so. The advisor made a move too smart, bringing the fallen Queen back into the fold, well aware that she was not as weak as before. But it was no surprise, as cunning was the weapon of weaklings so much as was of people like the Queen of Blades. The origin was the only explanation in the Brood Mother's mind. Both were of Terran origin, _halflings_. But now, both minds weren't subservient, as most of the Zerg below the commanding caste were. They were independent and cunning. Kerrigan was already a capable strategist, but Izsha inherited the Queen's strategies. Still, both were cunning.

Za'gara now was running out of options. She would _have_ to resort to something she was reserving for the Dominion. She concentrated as a tremor started to shake the cavern. A grueling roar erupted, reminding a lion, only more and more larger.

'_I would need you much later._', Za'gara said, psionically. '_But I need you now. Emerge. Emerge and fight! Stop the fallen Queen and her plans! Go!_'

Suddenly, Creep exploded along with rising dust as the cave tremored. Stalagmites collapsed as stalactites broke from the ceiling and fell to the ground like gigantic spikes, some of them impaling structures and minions, wounding and killing them. But those would be healed and replaced. Za'gara had more pressing concerns.

She stepped aside as her largest minion took her place and walked across the land bridge, cracking it due to the weight too heavy. Still, the land brige had not broken. It's stepped onwards, large four blades the size of a block-sized Terran building, ready to deliver the retribution and, hopefully, the victory Za'gara would need. Every step unleashed a small tremor and a thump many Terrans came to fear, even four, five years ago, when the Zerg arrived to that Sector of space, where they had not come out since.

* * *

She was on the verge of finishing it, once and for all. Kerrigan practically dominated the entire field on those caverns. Za'gara was cornered and her minions were dwinling faster, because of Kerrigan's capacity for combat as well as the Banelings she handled. Kerrigan had practically won.

Or _so_ she thought.

A huge tremor started riddling the cavern apart, followed by a gigantic, monstrous roar. The strength of the tremor was enough to make Kerrigan fall into the ground, having lost contact with the Overlord. Dust started falling from the ceiling as Kerrigan widened her eyes in horror of the earthquake that practically overtook the whole cavern.

"Whoa!", Kerrigan exclaimed, shocked. "_What the hell!?_"

However, as quickly as it came, the tremor subsided, as a furious monster roar could be heard from afar. Something that reminded a lion or an elephant. Still, it was flanged and low-pitched enough to be alien. And of something really big. As she got on her feet, she looked at the direction of the roar, her eyes widening.

"Izsha!", Kerrigan called. "That was you, wasn't it!?"

'_'That was me' what, Kerrigan!?_', Izsha answered back, as insulted and angry as she suddenly became. Then, small thumps that could be felt on the ground have touched Kerrigan's feet, as well as the sound they made, like boulders hitting the ground repeatedly.

She entered the Overlord's mind to see what it was. And she didn't like what she saw.

It was a creature far larger and taller than anything anyone had ever seen. A beast on four thick legs, with the body four legs and paws of a mammoth and about the same size of one, with the exception it was covered in thick brown Zerg carapace, as well as scaled flesh. The carapace in the head was about as close to the same extension as the rest of the body below, tethered by a beast-like face more smaller than the Brood Mother, although not less menacing, with jaws and massive small horns on the carapace. What were truly intimidating, however, were the four gigantic curved blades by the four small arms, as long as a block-sized Terran building and as thick as a bridge. It was walking, it's head curved menacingly down, moving in broad steps and not ceasing.

Moving towards Kerrigan's position, in which the Drone line was in the way.

"Holy- **ULTRALISK!?**", Kerrigan shouted, alarmed, as she psionically recalled the Zerg minions, whom ceased the attack by the second clearing and fell back. All Zerg minions, including the Banelings she had, all gathered to surround the gigantic beast.

'_Whoa, did I hear it right!?_', Izsha snapped again. '_Za'gara has an Ultra!?_'

"Yeah, and it's coming right our way!", Kerrigan replied, as she left the mind of the Overlord and started running. "What the hell do I do about it?"

'_I don't know! Something, anything, but bring it down!_', Izsha replied, alarmed.

"_That's the advice you got for me_!?", Kerrigan asked.

'_The only other way is to bring another Ultralisk, and ours aren't hatched yet!_', Izsha answered.

"Alright, whatever, will think fast on something!", Kerrigan replied, running back to the cave entrance to her Hive Cluster.

'_Think faster, Kerrigan!_', Izsha ordered. '_And bring that thing down!_'

Growling angry, Kerrigan accelerated her pace as she returned to the elevation, seeing, on the horizon, her minions surround the gargantuan ground beast from all sides they could, but to little to no effect. The carapace seemed to be absorbing the needle spines and acid saliva being shot and spit, and the Zerglings, from how small they were, could not reach and strike effectively, not even on the feet of the beast, whom was not stopping at all. Many times it ran over on Zerglings too unfortunate to be on their way, stepping atop of them, or it used it's massive blades to clear it's path in whole crowds, swinging it's arms around, whom were apparently meant to be used on the larger structures and machines the Dominion had. Three Banelings exploded, in close range, but the blast didn't seem to affect this beast at all. Like a bull in a rodeo, it didn't seem to stop until it a wall or something else.

'_Damn, what I'm gonna do!?_', Kerrigan thought, nervous. '_Come on, Sarah, think something!_'

The time to think, however, was too short as the beast was closing in, particularly on the Drone line that managed to reach the entrance that contained the infusion pond. Kerrigan closed her eyes in frustration and then opened them again as her eye pupils glowed her fierce yellow color, as she advanced to meet the beast head-on. The beast let out a roar strong enough to fill her ear canals and echo across the giant chamber. She started by firing her continuous lighting, focusing on the small face of the Ultralisk. The eletrical surge had covered the face of the beast, whom tiled the head a bit aside and let out a growl of pain, but it did not stop moving. Kerrigan continued firing until the beast came up close with it's blades, whom the beast recoiled in preparation to swing them.

"**WHOA!**", Kerrigan roared as she stopped firing and jumped to the ground, falling as the Ultralisk stepped aside, continuing to it's goal. Getting on her feet, the Queen realized her lightning was a bit useless in this case, forcing her to depend on a stronger means. She concentrated her mind as she recoiled her right arm, chased the beast and then unleashed, releasing a Kinetic Blast. The psionic energy hit the back of the Ultralisk somewhere near the supposed 'neck', as it unleashed a white explosion and made the beast roar in pain as it bent a bit. The beast, however, stopped it's march and turned around to face the aggressor responsible for the attack.

Kerrigan's eyes widened as she breathed heavily, her heart racing. One thing she managed, which was _slightly_ good, was getting the beast's attention. But it was _too bad_ as well, given the beast was staring at her with furious glowing yellow eyes, a drooling mouth and jaws, as well as the Kaiser Blades tethering along it's four arms. The Ultralisk then roared in ferocity, staring at Kerrigan, and beginning to approach her. Kerrigan simply looked at the beast and started attacking again, unleashing lightning on the beast's face as it approached and began to swing it's two left blades, in preparation to strike. Her eyes widening, Kerrigan began to run backwards as the Ultralisk kept on approaching. The beast swinged it's arms, but it hit nothing other than Kerrigan's minions, whom continued to attack. Kerrigan returned her attack on the giant monster, whom briefly recoiled itself, but quickly recovered and brought it's arms upwards, preparing to slam anything below them. Kerrigan continued ran back a bit as the Ultralisk brought it down, crushing anything beneath it.

Seeing it was safe to strike again, Kerrigan had another Kinetic Blast ready to unleash, as she then concentrated and readied her right arm for the shot. She approached the beast, whom was walking towards her head-on, roaring at her as it opened it's blade arms. She took this opportunity to unleash the blast, that struct the very abdomen of the creature. The blast let out an explosion as it reared back a bit, the Ultralisk roaring in pain, yet remaining on it's feet. It recovered then and raised it's frontal paws, in preparation to strike the ground, and let it down violently, provoking a violent blast as the ground tremored, making Kerrigan fall to the ground, her eyes widening and nervousness growing up her spine.

'_Damn thing! It just won't stop!_', Kerrigan thought, alarmed. '_What the hell am I gonna do!?_'

Noticing the Ultralisk reared it's right blades in preparation for a reaping strike, she got on her feet and ran backwards, by a slope. She noticed she was not having much option, and the Kinetic Blasts weren't having that much effect on the beast other than arousing it's anger. The Ultralisk then unleashed it's blades swinging it like a farmer reaping the corn with a scythe, and then swinging back, hitting some Zerglings whom tried to approach, making them fly upward and aside. Several of them fell to the ground, injured, as four of them have hit the wall of a cliff and collapsed into the hole next to it, falling to their deaths.

However, as Kerrigan looked nervous everywhere around the giant monster, she's seen that scene. It took a while, as she ran back to avoid another strike, to realize that gave her an idea. An idea she had on the spot. She then looked at the beast, her heart racing, as she then started looking around the cavern chamber for a cliff large enough for the beast to fall down. She found one behind her. She looked at it for two seconds and then at the Ultralisk, an idea brewing on her mind. Then, she knew what was to be done.

"Alright, then.", Kerrigan muttered quietly, taking a deep breath as she did it. "Alright, you son of a bitch... So you want me, huh? You want me? Alright, but you'll have to _get me_ first!"

With that said, she unleashed a continuous lightning at the Ultralisk, whom roared a bit in pain, but she then stopped firing as she turned around and started running a bit, trying to get it to chase her. The beast picked up speed, trying to reach her as she continued unleashing her lightning, although short ones this time, until the beast have had enough and started to run after her. Her eyes widening, she turned around and start running as faster as she could, in direction of the abyss before her. She was a bit ahead of the Ultralisk, but the beast wasn't getting far behind neither. She continued running, looking back at times to ensure her pursuer was after her.

Then she reached into the corner of the cliff, stopping her march as she saw the Ultralisk behind her approaching. She stood by the very corner awaiting the thing approaching, and noticed it wouldn't stop. The beast opened it's blade arms, in preparation to strike. Kerrigan noticed that there'd be no time to step to either side and dodge the giant monster at the last moment.

It'd only be three seconds before the Ultralisk ran over her. Her heart raced more than ever. Adrenaline was high. So was her breathing, as she quickly looked behind and down, at the numerous rock spires and intestines below, then at the beast.

"AH, SCREW THIS!", Kerrigan roared to herself as she then let herself fall into the cliff.

'_What is it Kerrigan!?_', Izsha asked on her mind, although there was no answer. '_Kerrigan!?_'

The beast did not stop, not even when it crossed the edge and attempted to jump, but it's body hit the edge on the other side and the beast ultimately fell into the abyss below, destroying the rock spires below, as well as crushing the intestines, beginning to let out blood as the beast was down, yet alive and roaring at how stranded it was now.

* * *

'_AH, SCREW THIS!_', was the line Kerrigan said on her mind before a large tremor had struck the minions she's been keep an eye into.

"What is it, Kerrigan!?", Izsha asked, her eyes widening in fear, nervous.

But there was nothing said after that, not even for a moment.

"Kerrigan, are you there!?", Izsha asked. "_Kerrigan!?_"

Her eyes widened in disbelief as something went up her throat. A fact she still refused to accept.

"_No..._", Izsha whispered, in fear. "Kerrigan, come back!", she shouted after a pause. "**KERRIGAN!**"

* * *

_Seconds before..._

The weight was too much and she didn't remember doing anything like this before, but Kerrigan stood there, both her hands holding by the edge, even when the ground had shaken with the fall of the beast, as her right hand lost grip of the edge for a moment, before she grabbed it again quickly. She was breathing heavily as she forced herself upwards, growling a bit in pain as she succeeded in coming atop, managing to bring her body back to the edge, lying down for a moment, relieved and closing her eyes for a moment. She let out a heavy breath, along with a moan.

'_Kerrigan, are you there!?_', she could her Izsha calling, nervous on her mind. '_Kerrigan!?_'

Kerrigan took some time to breathe before she could answer her, resting for a while.

'_Kerrigan, come back!_', Izsha roared, in fear. '**_KERRIGAN!_**'

"**I'M HERE, IZSHA!**", Kerrigan roared back, touching her temple and letting out a sigh after. "I'm here..."

'_*sigh* You scared the hell off me, young lady!_', Izsha said, relieved, yet angry. '_What the hell happened!?_'

Kerrigan let out a sigh.

"_I did it._", Kerrigan said. "I got rid of it."

'_Great, glad to hear it!_', Izsha said, after a pause as she calmed herself down. '_Alright, get back to the Hive Cluster._'

"Not yet.", Kerrigan said, tired as she slowly got on her feet. "I still have a job to do."

'_Not anymore._', Izsha said, stressed. '_It's over._'

Kerrigan stopped for a while, attempting to assimilate the news.

"Dammit...", Kerrigan cursed, though quietly. "She got the rest, didn't she?"

'_That too._', Izsha said. '_But we hit the mark, Sarah. The pond is full._'

* * *

A large tremor had erupted in the cavern, along with roar of despair. The cave shook up and down, as dust crumbled over her and her Hive Cluster.

Her eyes widened.

Her greatest beast fell. It was still alive, but it fell.

It couldn't help Za'gara anymore. Her only hope now was that the beast had taken her with it.

But it didn't.

"I'M HERE, IZSHA!", a far voice roared from afar.

This alone destroyed all hope.

Za'gara's eyes widened. Widened in despair. Widened in fear.

Fear of what would come _next_.

"Get her!", Za'gara shouted. "GET HER! **NOW!**"

With this, all her minions, all her warriors, ran besides her and into the land bridge, all at once, all hurrying to fight their opponent.

* * *

It was some time before she had started to run to the Hive Cluster, especially due to the roar that returned her to the reality she was still in a fight. Zerg warrior strains belonging to Za'gara started to close in and advance on Kerrigan and her attack force, whom responded fiercely as she started to rush back to the infusion pond. Now was the time to end all that circus for good.

It was time to _end_ Za'gara.

Kerrigan entered the tunnel entrance leading to her primary base as her mind tried to assimilate everything that led to that point, so far. The difficulty of getting those eggs. The pressure of fighting a battle with thin resources, as Za'gara attempted to push her on the frontline. The experience of fighting both a Brood Mother and the largest strain the Zerg had, seconded only by the gargantuan Leviathan and, perhaps, the Nydus Worm. What she learned and whatnot on all of it. All in a single hour. A single mission, running non-stop.

Kerrigan breathed, exhausted, but relieved as she went up the ramp leading to her Hive Cluster and down to the ramp of the depression close to the entrance. There, she's seen the infusion pond fully filled with eggs, liquid trying to bubble and let out steam as it ran on the tight space between the eggs. Only a very corner, where Kerrigan could step closely, was free for the liquid to run.

"Okay, Izsha, let's get this done with.", Kerrigan said. "How do I activate the infusion pond?"

'_It's a very simple catalyst._', Izsha readily answered. '_Just touch the water with your psionics._'

"_What?_", Kerrigan asked, her eyes widening. "With_ psionics_!? But how the hell I'll do that!?"

'_I think you know how_.', Izsha answered, in a cryptic manner.

Kerrigan simply stood there, dumbfounded, as she stared at the liquid before her. She then tried to wonder how to do it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she opened them back, her eyes glowing again. She then extended her right arm into the liquid and allowed a lightning bolt to be released. The lightning bolt hit the liquid below, unleashing it's full power. It went as quickly as it stopped firing.

Still, it didn't do nothing at all. The eggs remained there, standing still, all tranquil. Kerrigan didn't understood it well. 'Maybe it was too short...', she though, as she prepared to unleash a lightning a bit longer than the last one. She aimed her arm to the liquid puddle and fired it, waiting a bit longer before she stopped and looked at the eggs.

Nothing happened. The eggs remained immobile.

"No...", Kerrigan muttered in anger, as she began to fire her lightning on the liquid, again and again, but nothing still happened. "Come on. _Come on_!"

Five to six tries were all she needed to stop firing and fall on her knees in frustration, breathing deeply in regret. "Why didn't you tell me, Izsha?", Kerrigan asked, quietly and almost to the point of crying, as she looked at the infusion pool before her, with the hundred eggs that, apparently, wouldn't seem to wake up at any time, now. The liquid was bubbling in inviting streams, like a hot tub. She took a breath to then look at her very palm, disappointed. Her lightning had led her so far to that. Apparently, it wouldn't take her further.

'_What the hell is this kind of answer you gave me?_', Kerrigan thought, regretful. '_'Just touch the water with psionics'?_', she repeated, mocking a bit as she let out a sigh afterwards, resuming her look into the liquid. She looked at it for a while until something shed a light on her. The manner the phrase was said. She looked a bit upwards, dumbfounded, as she then looked at her right hand.

"_No_...", Kerrigan muttered, slowly, thinking on the phrase, again and again. "No, that's _stupid_! _It can't be THAT simple_!", she added, insulted, as she looked back into the liquid.

Still, it was a stupid try to let out, so what the hell.

She let her eye pupils glow her fierce golden yellow glow as she slowly approached her right hand on the liquid, a bit afraid something might happen the moment she touched it. She hesitated a bit when she was too close, but then she let her hand rest on the liquid, her potential happened.

Suddenly, after one second, the liquid started glowing a gradual white light as it ran, like a wave, across the entire infusion pond, before briefly fading and returning to a simple liquid. Shocked at first, she immediately withdrew her hand back, aprehensive, and saw nothing happened. She waited for a while and nothing happened. She closed her eyes in frustration, another failure.

Then a crack was heard, somewhere in the pond. Then another. And then another. And more and more cracks started repeating themselves them. The first crack caught Kerrigan's attention, whom reopened her eyes when the second crack sounded and then the third. And then more cracks followed, picking up speed and less interval. She slowly got on her feet as she then began to see the eggs before her start convulsing and shaking, what was within struggling to breed out.

Kerrigan breathed in relief. She did it. She looked at the eggs whom were about to hatch with pride and satisfaction gradually rising within her, her resolve renewed as well as her vigor.

Amidst one of the eggs, a louder crack was heard as the surface cracked right open, a limb coming out. The limb of a Zergling, that was now struggling to rip open the remainder of the egg. It eventually managed to break itself free, staring into the ceiling, breathing free air as it unleashed it's first birth cry. So it happened to the second, next to it, and another in the deep end, at the same time. And it gradually happened with more and more Zerglings, hatching out of their pupal cribs and several beginning to move off them, sometimes stepping atop another Zergling, as they stood eager to follow their new Queen. Their new 'mother'.

Kerrigan smirked. Smirked at the hundred strong children she'd now take into battle.

* * *

It's clawed hand waved violently, ripping off a Zergling aside with the strength and violence of a bear. It let out a roar as it contracted itself in the carnage before it, and then unleashed it's muscles as it's needle spines flew like bullets, hitting the hostiles busy fighting those like it, and like it. There was no tire or exhaust, no physical or psychological breakdown as it kept on fighting like it's battle was it's last.

That's how it was with all warrior strains. Move, fight and kill. A thing a sentient warrior would call the Holy Triad. Except it wasn't sentient. Sentience meant it could feel and think, and translate these thoughts that'd determine or interfere in an action. It was a machine. It would kill until it was killed itself. There was no pleasure in anything, nor regret, nor mercy. Not even in the violence it delivered. There was nothing, just a programming to kill.

That was how the Hydralisk thought. That was how all Hydralisks thought, so much as those like it as those not like it.

The battle before it was as fierce, although not as violent as was the previous battle. Though outnumbered, Za'gara's minions fought bravely, making it a stalemate. More and more minions came from the Hive Cluster, past the land bridge. A small wave of reinforcements also came from the Hive Cluster of it's Queen, adding a balance to the battle. More and more minions to kill as it shot it's spines and waved it's claw arms.

Something that did not last long, as the Hydralisk heard thumps coming from behind it. Thumps of many, many minions, running in a furious race to battle. They raced besides him as well as others, entering the middle of the battle and surrounding it, with a ferocity unexpected, except when in their first battle.

Many minions. Many like it. Many who'd fight on it's side.

Many who'd serve it's Queen.

* * *

The battle ahead raged as Za'gara could feel the end coming to greet her. It'd be sooner or it'd be later, but it was certainly coming. Her greatest hope failed it's simple task. All minions failed their simple task. She wasn't acting out of cunning, now. She was delaying her inevitable outcome. She would fall, but she would be certain Kerrigan would pay a dear price for her success. Izsha had accomplished her word. She'd come for her and the rest. And she would take them all down. She could, now, although the hand holding the blade wasn't hers. It was from another hand, being doubtlessly puppeteered. Either puppeteered or bullied, like the other minions, although she was fighting like if there was no bullying at all.

There was no option to that. Not even running away, far from those caverns. To run to afar would be to denote a sign of weakness. Weakness that other Brood Mothers could explore to undermine her. Especially with the fallen the Queen of Blades, where they would state '_If she is indeed weakened, how could you not defeat her?_'. The only choice was to fight and fall as she was born. As Zerg. Devoid of fear and doubt, despite what she felt given the recent scenario.

She could see the enemy line faltering, the minions growing thin, given there were no Banelings ready to tip the balance, like the last times. Perhaps there was hope to salvage something from this debacle. Kerrigan was now pressing the lines, but she was meeting Za'gara head-on, and there was no alternative, no option unless she had something else. The Overlords could not fly, so transportation was no option. The Nydus Worms could be intercepted and forced away before they spilled their reinforcements. It all resumed to that land bridge, cracked by the weight of the Ultralisk. There, she would make the stand. Or not, given there was a chance to win the battle.

A chance that evaporated when she saw Zerglings surrounding her group, circling them and cutting out the chances of escape. Many Zerglings. More than ten, twenty, thirty. Almost a hundred of them, counting the minions the Queen had under her command.

Za'gara knew what this meant. It meant she hatched what was supposed to be hers.

"No.", Za'gara murmured. "_No_!"

She then decided how it'd be.

'_Defend the entrance!_', Za'gara ordered. '_They must not enter!_'

A few seconds passed before those Zerglings, whom were busy with the forces ahead, changed their course to engage the Zerg by the bridge. Za'gara's minions rushed forward to hold the land bridge against the advance, clashing against the rushing Zerglings, as Roaches and Hydralisks from both sides took the best firing positions they could to spit their acid and shoot their spines. Za'gara ran her eyes across the large army fighting through until it stopped by a point afar, where she could see a humanoid figure. Her enemy, whom was staring at her as the Brood Mother stared back. Za'gara stared with eyes of defiance. Kerrigan's look was of vengeance and conclusion.

The final battle was joined.

* * *

It had come to that. The final strike. The exclamation mark, the period. Like a movie, a video-game, a sports match, like a book, everything and anything has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Many times it shifted, the end depending on how it went in the middle and even beginning. But the end was inevitable.

She could see that, from where she stood. Zerglings and more Zerglings clashing one another in that field. The real problem was the land bridge. She had an effective choke point and firing positions where she not only could fire at the Zerglings struggling to get past, but also at the other ranged Zerg. Those whom fell were either being stepped on or being pushed aside to the abyss. Za'gara was personally there, coordinating the battle as she stared at Kerrigan. Kerrigan was no military genius, but it was irrelevant when one could know whom was willing to fight to the death. She'd make it quick, and ensure Za'gara wouldn't burrow to safety this time. She'd make her opponent know whom it was who defeated her, and then control her brood and those yet unhatched.

Only one obstacle was left. One Kerrigan knew what to do now. She touched her temple, her decision made, her mind resolute. A first, even for one whom was not so used to commanding troops on the field. She felt her most trusted approaching as she ordered her breed behind.

Two whom were rolling to that land bridge, ready to sacrifice themselves to allow victory to their Queen. Two whom made the Brood Mother widen her eyes, from afar.

'_Knock, knock._', Kerrigan deadpanned, when the explosions let out and acid rained over the Zerglings on that side of the abyss. Her minions then moved forward again, managing to cut through the wounded resistance until they could cross the edge and start doing what they did best. Swarming the opponent. The rest followed as well as Kerrigan decided to join in.

'_All of you, do not dare to touch Za'gara._', Kerrigan ordered, as she began to walk. '_She's mine._'

Harsh steps touched the rough ground as she moved onward, picking some speed to move on forward, past the crowd of minions, whom surprisingly backed away to give room to the Queen as she approached the bridge, her eyes glowing with fury. She locked them at her target as chaos erupted within the Hive Cluster, an unbelievable mess. Za'gara herself was fighting minions whom were advancing on other minions, trying to protect her breed. She had impaled two Zerglings close to a Hydralisk with her grasper limbs when she noticed Kerrigan and noticed her look.

Both said nothing. It wasn't needed to say anything at all.

Za'gara lounged at Kerrigan, letting out a feral roar, and Kerrigan was simply there, standing, her feet still, her look unchanged. She closed her grip on both hands as her eyes continued to glow. As the Brood Mother approached Kerrigan, she extended her right arm, aiming it at Za'gara, realizing she could grip her. She threw her away, by the very back of the Hive, as the remaining of the Hive Cluster fell to the number of Zerg before them. The flesh structures decayed and opened their interiors as smaller Zerg, small manta-like creatures with two limbs crawled out to fight the aggressors, but were quickly subdued. Ooze had leaked out of the destroyed Spawning pool, contaminating a part of Creep, whom was bubbling in reaction. Za'gara's eyes widened in fear as she realized this was not Kerrigan's self.

Her numb state came to pass as Kerrigan returned to herself, seeing her command self had finished the job. She saw Za'gara standing there, cornered by that single Hive, as the hundred or more minions surrounded her, roaring and menacing. Kerrigan slowly approached the Brood Mother to deliver the final blow.

The battle was finished.

She could also hear a snicker of triumph in her mind.

'_Epic, sublime, a worthy orchestra!_', Izsha commented, triumphant. '_And now, Kerrigan, the Grand Finale. End her._'

Kerrigan's eyes lightened as she faced the Brood Mother. Funny, though, that her enemy's eyes were widened and she was backing in fear, despite what happened.

"Wait. _Wait!_", Za'gara exclaimed, her tone increasing in fear. "Mercy, my Queen!"

"'My Queen'!? '_Mercy_'!?", Kerrigan shouted, resolute, menacing as her look and eye glow. "Now, you want mercy!? After you nearly _killed_ me!? I'm not seeing a single reason, at all, to spare you right now..."

"But- _It was necessary_!", Za'gara shouted, in agony. "I only did as you instructed, my Queen!"

"_As I instructed_!?", Kerrigan asked, livid. "Did I tell you to rebel against me? Did I tell you to strike down your Queen and her Brood? Did I EVER tell you to send an Ultralisk against her and nearly kill her with it!?"

"_No!_", Za'gara roared, although in fear, her breathing heavy. "You have instructed each and every one of us to continue the Swarm, should you fall! Prevent it's extinction!"

"_Like you're doing right now_!?", Kerrigan asked back, furious. "You and the others!? Fighting a petty war against one another, even with you're seeing your Queen is alive!? Bickering for the crown even with the DOMINION in our _very gates_!? And rebelling against your Queen, when _all_ she asked for was a proof of your loyalty to the Swarm!?"

"My Queen, allow me to explain, you do not understand!", Za'gara pleaded.

"I don't!?", Kerrigan asked, angry. "Oh, _I think I do, _Za'gara. You did it on _purpose._ That's all I need to know."

'_Yes, that's right, Kerrigan, that's how you do it._', Izsha said, proud. '_Show her who holds the cards now._'

"You do not understand, my Queen!", Za'gara insisted. "And you would not accept, even if I explained you!"

"_Try me_.", Kerrigan replied, dryly.

'_And you're really going to buy her words?_', Izsha asked.

"Since most of our Swarm fell to the Terrans and their artifact...", Za'gara started, fearful and hesitating. "Since you had fallen, my Queen, the Brood Mothers were _forced_ to act on their own! You gave us the intelligence and psionic strength to do it, but most importantly, you delivered us a _will_ which to call our own. A will to carry on without you. We _only_ used it when you no longer could lead us!"

"_Not properly, I might add._", Kerrigan said, bitterly. "It seems I forgot to put some _sense_ in it!"

"Fighting you was _necessary_, my Queen!", Za'gara exclaimed in defense. "It is all a test of will. The strongest will always commands within the Swarm, when the former strongest falls. It always has been like this, and always it will be like this! And the Swarm follows the strongest of will with both fear and pride."

"Your '_test of will_' nearly cost my _life_, Za'gara!", Kerrigan exclaimed, livid again. "You seemed pretty determined in killing me, on that clearing! You were so 'bold and powerful' back there, weren't you? So full of yourself. Now, _look at yourself_. Here you are, kneeling and _begging_ for your own life. I find it hard to believe you."

'_For the love of..._', Izsha said, frustrated, although giggling as well. '_It's quite obvious she is doing nothing but buying more time for her. Don't leave her waiting, Kerrigan._'

"I sure won't.", Kerrigan said, as she concentrated. "Any last words?"

"Please, my Queen, listen to me, I am _submitting_ to your will!", Za'gara exclaimed, desperate. "Have mercy and I shall prove myself worthy to you! 'Tis all I ask!"

"You nearly killed me today.", Kerrigan said, dryly, as she raised her right hand, aiming it at Za'gara. "You can very well try it again, for all I know."

Seeing as there was no option left, no arguing, Za'gara did nothing but close her eyes in preparation for the inevitable outcome.

'_Typical_.', Kerrigan thought, ready to shoot the final word on the matter.

'_My Queen, I beg you halt!_'

The new voice, deep and monotone, yet with a slight sense of urgency, came in booming on Kerrigan's mind as she then stopped for a moment. She could easily recognize her.

"_What!?_", Kerrigan asked, surprised. "_What is the meaning of this, Abathur?_"

'_I ask you not to destroy her, my Queen, despite the fact she has turned against you._', Abathur said.

'_What!?_', Izsha asked, surprised, disbelieving and furious. '_You're not just gonna- Abathur, what are you-_'

'_She could know the location of other Brood Mothers, Izsha._', Abathur replied. '_Also, with the state our current forces are, compared to the numbers of the Dominion, we need her support._'

'_You drinked acid again, haven't you!?_', Izsha asked, livid. '_Support from Za'gara, Abathur? A traitor!? She could very well turn against us in a moment's notice! And even when we're looking the other way around!_'

"Izsha has a point, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, firmly. "Giving her a way in may very well be the same as slitting our throats."

"Do not listen to her, my Queen!", Za'gara pleaded. "I would not dare do such a thing, not after-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, ZA'GARA!", Kerrigan barked. "You already said your last words, don't make things anymore_ harder_ for you!"

'_She is necessary, my Queen._', Abathur remained firm.

"In what _exactly_, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, her eyes tightening.

'_Yeah, I'm curious about that, too!_', Izsha shouted.

'_Many factors determine her necessity._', Abathur explained. '_Her numbers and control of the Hive Clusters around Char are one instance._'

"But it isn't that a simple thing?", Kerrigan asked. "Just kill her and then her Brood turns to our control?"

'_Negative. The lower castes cannot withstand the shock of losing Hierarchy._', Abathur said, firmly. '_Without their mistress, the Broods may turn feral and run amok. They may threaten our Leviathan and take days and many losses before we can regain control and resume our operations against the Terrans._'

"Yeah, but it doesn't _sound_ like a good idea to have them on her leash, either!", Kerrigan protested.

'_You have defeated and submitted her, my Queen. You have proven to her your will is the strongest._', Abathur said. '_This makes her bound to you and your whim._'

'_Well, Kerrigan isn't exactly keen on having a backstabber walking close to her, either!_', Izsha protested. '_Even if she's this new person, and not the Queen of Blades of before!_'

'_Another factor that determines her necessity to live is the information she possesses._', Abathur continued, regardless. '_As I informed, she could know the location of other Brood Mothers._'

"Can't we just find them the hard way, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, calming down, but with an eye open on the Brood Mother.

'_Some Brood Mothers are very difficult to trace without the aid of one Brood Mother._', Abathur explained. '_She shares a psionic bond with others like her own. We can utilize that._'

'_I'm hardly convinced._', Izsha said, sarcastically. '_Can't you just do something about it? You're supposed to be the mad scientist, after all!_'

'_A solution may take too long, and the Brood Mothers will have expanded their influence, Izsha!_', Abathur stood firmly. Kerrigan became surprised at how firm the apparently subservient alien was. '_We may not be in a condition to combat such influence when it is developed. There are also the Terrans whom may return and engage us in force. Eliminating her is not recommended!_'

'_I don't believe it..._', Izsha said, frustrated. '_The best moment we have and we're delaying arguing with the alien nerd, I don't freaking believe it, for the love of- *sigh* Listen, Kerrigan, there's no way he knows it'll be like he says, he doesn't even have a crystal ball, for crying out loud! We can do something about those problems when they arise, we're not that incompetent, goddammit! Please, just end her at once and get back to the base, alright!?_'

'_My Queen, I beg you maintain her survival._', Abathur said back. '_It is paramount, both in numeric statistics as in reliability. So much for the location of the Brood Mothers as the information of the Terran forces occupying this planet._'

"_Why do you think I had Richter infested, Abathur_!?", Kerrigan asked, angry. "He seems more reliable than her!"

'_Yet his cerebral cortex' physical condition can be compromised!_', Abathur argued back. '_There is no guarantee he will deliver reliable information. Za'gara, on another hand, has a stable, functioning cerebral system._'

"Yeah, but she can _lie_ about it.", Kerrigan argued back.

'_Right on the spot!_', Izsha exclaimed, immediately after Kerrigan. '_My thoughts exactly, Kerrigan, she can spew rubbish and we might even buy it! Why should we even listen to what she has to say!?_'

'_Information can be transitioning, mutable, with multiple facets and facts_.', Abathur said. '_Many times, when actual data cannot be acquired, a secondary opinion is welcome, and many times paramount._'

"_Even when she can make up a story_?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically.

'_The determination if an information is based on facts or pre-fabricated according to the needs of the listener is determined on psionic and physical denoting._', Abathur answered. '_Corporal language can be analyzed as well as mental readouts-_'

'_Excuse me, I thought we both already made up our minds here, Abathur!_', Izsha interrupted. '_Kerrigan wants to kill Za'gara, I want her dead too! Two for one. Majority. Wins. The election! Let's finish this, Kerrigan, I want to be in home in time for the playoffs._'

Kerrigan, however, only stood there, looking at the Brood Mother whom was standing still before her, her back by the Hive before her.

'_Kerrigan, what are you waiting for?_', Izsha asked, impatient. '_Please, don't tell me you fell for what Abathur said!_'

"I'm thinking here, Izsha.", Kerrigan said.

'_Thinking!?_', Izsha asked, furious. '_There's nothing to think! It's plain simple doing! Point, pull, BAM, she's dead, end of story!_'

"Izsha, now you're getting up on me, can you please stop _barking_ on my head for a moment, damn you!?", Kerrigan shouted, angry. "Just shut it, let me think for a moment!"

'_My Queen, I recognize it is a difficult decision._', Abathur said. '_Za'gara has indeed turned against you and openly attacked and severely risked your physical condition to operate. For her act of treason, she is due for punishment and execution, but the current state also denotes a consideration of future consequences. Za'gara has also an utility for coming conflicts. This decision must be made with calculated determination, not as an emotional response._'

"Enough, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, firmly. "Please, _you too_, let me do a decision on my own."

Kerrigan then approached the Brood Mother, until she was up close with the creature.

"I'll ask you only _once_, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "And what you answer can very well kill you, or not. Abathur said you could know the location of the other Brood Mothers. Well... _do you_?"

"Y-Yes, my Queen, I do.", Za'gara answered, nervous. "There is Na'fash, my Queen, who departed the Sector, to the ice world of Kaldir, as well as Sa'ti, who is stranded-"

"_Enough_.", Kerrigan said, bitterly. "And get on your feet, your cowering stance makes you look ridiculous. You're coming with me to the Leviathan."

"What?", Za'gara asked, surprised and hesitating, as Kerrigan turned around. "You would... _allow_ me to come with you?"

"But let me state something clear, Za'gara: _I don't take backstabbing nicely_.", Kerrigan said as she turned around to face the Brood Mother, with a penetrating, threatning look. "You can try and make your move, when you feel you're bold enough again. But when you do, I assure you, a carcass will be dumped off. And it'll be either mine... _or yours_. Yours too, if you try something on anyone aboard, and that includes Izsha! Understand?"

Za'gara paused for a moment and lowered in head in compliance.

"I understand, my Queen. I shall make another move on you, no longer.", Za'gara said.

"_I'll only believe it when see it._", Kerrigan replied, coldly, as she turned around. "Let's go."

With this said, Kerrigan started walking away at a slower pace, her minions opening room, as Za'gara went to follow her and abandon the safe confines of the Hive she was cowering to.

'_I don't believe it!_', Izsha said, furious. '_I don't freaking believe it!_'

"You heard Abathur, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "It seems that Za'gara is more useful alive."

'_Oh, and if he'd tell you to jump into a lava puddle just because it'd make you feel better, you'd do it without question!?_', Izsha asked, ironically livid. '_Interesting, choosing to listen a guy concerned with his eggs rather than with real people, whom understand you more than anyone else! How interesting, I thought we were going to bring someone down!_'

"And I have!", Kerrigan said, firmly. "I can dispose of her later, if you so want that, but not now. Not with the Dominion to worry about."

'_You mark my words, young lady, you'll seriously regret this along the line!_', Izsha started, menacingly. '_I'm warning you, Kerrigan, Za'gara-_'

"_Dammit, Izsha, quit the whining, already_!", Kerrigan shouted, angry. "You're sounding like a spoiled girl, for crying out loud!"

After a while of silence, it was broken again, however.

'_A wise, calculated decision, my Queen._', Abathur said.

"_Shut up, you too!_", Kerrigan ordered, angry. "I swear, if I have to hear you or Izsha again while I travel back, you're on your own against the Dominion. And I won't give a damn on what happens to me! Did you hear me?"

'_As commanded._', Abathur complied.

Nothing else was said ever since between any of them. It was a walk too long, a path too rough, but Kerrigan didn't mind that now.

She really could use the time to think.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

Whew! God-Dammit, _one day overdue_! Man, never imagined a ZvZ was that heard to compile here! And it was just the POV of the Zerg involved in the cavern, imagine if I included the other arcs, then! I swear, I hope it's the last time I do something on that scale.

Though, too, I feel it's the most satisfying, on several aspects. I challenged myself here to make something at least decent. I think the events here are solid, despite the large flaw that Za'gara is all bold before and then she cowers right at the end. The fight with her and the Ultralisk, well, I think those were my highest points. One thing I liked though is that I introduced RTS concepts to this chapter, like the need to expand, kiting (Those who'll see the Ultralisk part will understand.), and other stuff.

There'll be people here, lore-wise, who'll say the Za'gara character is flawed, her background is different because she's the first Brood Mother in the official HotS and here's she's entirely different, stuff like that. Please, let me explain that this was necessary for the story to progress. I'm now more concerned with what will come later and what I can do to help develop the relationship between Za'gara and Kerrigan, which already started to become quite tense. Besides, people, please, this is Fanfic, it's not meant to be taken too seriously. Like I once said, before, you never could do it with StarCraft.

Well, can't say much now, other than the fact I'm starting my work on the next chapter ASAP. Criticize, comment, review, I'll answer later. Until next chapter, which, hopefully, I won't blow the deadline.

**EDIT:** I obviously forgot to add that one of the characters mentioned is property of Blackhole1, author of Her Body's Plaything. Credits to him as well as Ragnarok666, whom continue to write solid critics on it, as well as for their characters.


	16. Chapter XIV - A Reprieve Too Tense

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XIV - A REPRIEVE TOO TENSE**

* * *

**NEW CANAAN SPACEPORT, TYRADOR IX**  
**14:30, STANDARD COLONIAL TIME**

The sun was shining strongly, letting out a heat worthy of a tropical country, over the blue sky with no clouds that enveloped an oppressive light, due to UV intensity, over most of New Canaan and probably half of Tyrador IX bright side that afternoon. The floor, some said, was burning hotter than Char and sweat leaked high on the head and bodies of most people walking out there, whom couldn't find a shadow beneath the canopy or a tall building as they walked across the city's streets. Billboards and tall, sleek-looking structures riddled the majority of the largest coastal city in Tyrador, although many of those were residential complexes, apartments, hotels and resorts. Only a far too few concerned commerce and business, and then those were the vital sectors for the touristic city, like water, power and gas. Fuel and food were actually imported from outer worlds, using the hard-earned credits from the tours as payment. Palm trees could generally be seen on the road sidewalks, as decoration on the touristic sites such as the beach resort, which even had some Tiki bars close by. By the street level, there was more traffic of people walking around, men, women of all ages, from children to elder, than actual vehicles. That was because Tyrador IX was a popular tourist destination, founded as a core world for the Terran Confederacy, becoming one of the last worlds to be settled. So much coastal cities like New Canaan and Elsecaro, as well as personal estates and enclaves for the Old Families were set up.

But even a tourist colony, a vacation world for individuals and families, had it's issues. Two of them stood out from the remainder. The first was the economic ruin the planet was forced to bear during the times of the Confederacy, and that didn't change when the Dominion took over. Despite it's apparently idyllic way of life, any of it's local citizenry went into debt with various Confederate financial institutions, that charged interest that often seemed like extortion. Thus, the citizenry often worked as indentured employees at the numerous resorts, all just so to pay their debts. The second was the climate itself, that often had a tendency to mess more with the business than actually help it, despite it's contribution to the ambiance that, apparently, would help increase tourism profitability. This was due to the fact Tyrador IX orbited it's larger sister planet, and this resulted in extreme changes in climate, often creating rather unusual environments like deserts at the base of snow-capped mountains or, occasionally, snowstorms in tropical jungles. Such radical variations have granted the planet equally diverse and unique, although _unstable_, ecosystems.

However, fortunately, this was a day that could easily be considered normal, given the sun and heat outside. A sun Nova Terra would have to bear, unless the people she was going to meet had brought in transport to take her to whatever hole she'd be, as an 'operations center'. Despite the fact it was a Dominion world, and Ghosts were often commonly seen at times, her mission was a covert one, one that involved a seemingly relevant character in Tyrador's society, according to what she read. Therefore, discretion was the order of the day.

According to the file, Lionel Brahe, the target she was supposed to follow, was apparently the local authority concerning biology and genetics, no doubt the type of mind someone like the renegade Spectre Gabriel Tosh would be interested in. He was awarded over three prizes for his scientific theories concerning connections between biology and it's involvements in psionic development. The newest study he was currently on was 'chemical augmentation', something that Nova presumed it had to do with Terrazine and Jorium, the two materials that were the basis for creating Spectres. The photograph annexed depicted a bald Caucasian person, doubtless on his sixties, wearing a social suit and coat at night. His facial features included a beard and mustache. According to the file, he had a set of blue eyes.

Nova had already checked in with the New Canaan Spaceport Control concerning her permission to land, and already activated the auto-pilot in the cabin, setting it to land in Docking Pad 23. She closed the file and got up the pilot seat to pick her trusted C-20A, which she checked up as she returned to the seat to prepare for the ofter uncomfortable thump of the ship landing.

Which exactly happened three minutes later. She then pressed the button by the cockpit panel, as the sound of the rocket engines started fading away. She then got up from the seat, file and rifle in hand, as she stepped to the elevator and pressed the button that started the slow descent outside, to the cargo bay. The cargo doors were open as people inside stepped in, sweating and breathing in a brief relief of the heat outside as they picked the crates. Spaceport personnel, no doubt. As the elevator plate touched the metal floor of the cargo bay, Nova started her walk towards the exit, stepping out of the Dropship and into the live sun of New Canaan, a summer heat she immediately felt warming down her skin, as well as her suit.

Starting to look around to see where her contact was, she then looked to someone whom was staring at her as well, utilizing a simple civilian set of clothes. He was wearing a brown jacket with a white shirt beneath, with the logo of some awful rock band, as well as a pair of snickers and jeans. The man had short red hair and Caucasian skin, despite his eyes couldn't be seen, as they were shielded by the pair of sunglasses. He stood by a black Shikouto Coupe, a black civilian car with futuristic traits that seemed to hold driver and side passenger only. One thing peculiar of the vehicle, however, was that, unlike other cars, whom had four wheels and tires, this car seemed to use six of them. Despite looking the other way to see if the person would stop looking at her, she looked back to see he didn't. Afar, the man shrugged his forehead, like if he was expecting something out of her.

'_Must be a wrangler..._', Nova thought, as she walked forward to meet this person, thinking of the person whom brought her before into the Program, Malcolm Kelerchian. The black asphalt which the ground was paved with was boiling, and Nova could feel a bit of it inside her boots.

"Are you mister Tremm?", Nova asked, approaching, file and rifle in each hand.

"Operative Tremm.", the person answered. "I was told you were coming."

Nova simply looked at the person before her, especially his dress code.

"You don't look like an operative.", Nova commented. "I'm not seeing you in suit or even armed."

"It's a security measure.", Tremm said. "Riots have been going on a peak lately, the city is on the verge of becoming a warzone. We nearly lost two Ghosts because of the suits. I hope you understand, Agent. And I hope you'll take yours off once we arrive to our base."

"_Like hell I will!_", Nova protested, angry. "I'm not taking anything off but targets, and you might be the first if you try something like that. You and your men."

"It's necessary, miss Terra.", Tremm said, firmly. "Unless you want to remain holed in our quarters, working surveillance. Either you walk out off-suit to avoid suspicions, or you don't get into the streets at all."

"That is not an option, Tremm.", Nova said, coldly. "I have my orders."

"So do I.", Tremm said. "But we also have orders to avoid conflict with the revolting populace, that's the problem of the Dominion military here."

"Were you informed of the assignment?", Nova asked.

"Yes, but on a limited basis.", Tremm answered, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead. "Ma'am, may I suggest we enter the car and head to base, now? This heat is more harsh than of Korhal, you can pass out easily here if you don't watch it."

"You did?", Nova asked.

"Twice on my first and fourth days.", Tremm answered.

"Okay, take me there.", Nova said, as she then walked to the passenger's door of the Shikouto Coupe and opened the door. Tremm opened the door on his side and both thus boarded the vehicle.

Things have been going normally since, even as the Coupe started, turned around and left the primary asphalt strip of the Spaceport. It was a normal day, like everything else for everyone.

Everyone but these two. And those who were with them, and that Nova would meet shortly.

* * *

**CAVE SYSTEMS, ACID MARSH, CHAR**

Not many sounds riddled the cavern since the battle had ceased, minutes ago. The minions had been idle as well as the Hive Cluster had been undergoing it's normal business, until that second mineral field went off as well. But she wasn't minding about that, right now. She was simply there, walking steps. Slow, longer steps, her head down as she tried to accept what she just did. So far, none had been screaming on her mind, or even talking, like Abathur did. She was planning on taking the longer route back to the Hive Cluster. She needed the time. Time to think and accept.

Her anger was calmed down, but was itching too, particularly at the small steps behind her. She was all alert at what could happen at any time, given the being behind with grasper, ornamental and scavenging limbs, with claws and fangs walking, creeping at the same pace she was. She couldn't believe what she was doing, _sparing_ the one that tried to _kill_ her. But, oh, the pleading Abathur insisted she was brought back, him and those facts of his that she was paramount, whatever that meant. She hated that. She'd rather have listened to Izsha, ignored Abathur and just killed her on the spot.

Not to mention she couldn't reckon what the hell was wrong with Izsha not long ago. She just sounded too _radical_ back then, insisting, practically barking on her to kill the Brood Mother. The same Brood Mother that now followed her, and she wasn't sure if that monster would try to stab in the back, since upfront was practically useless. Izsha didn't need to keep on roaring, practically angry, anyway. She had all the reasons on the world, reasons the Brood Mother delivered her. One, especially, in form of a large monster that nearly ended her. If Abathur didn't interfere, she'd have killed her, right there, while she was cowering, trying to claim innocence despite the hard evidence that she was entirely guilty.

At least, if she surrendered and recognized the Queen was returned to the Swarm, there wouldn't be a need for this mess, in which ended with Za'gara practically outmatched and outnumbered. But it happened, that 'test of will', as Za'gara stated. What the hell kind of a test was that, that demanded such a_ carnage_? No wonder the Zerg Swarm was really reviled. It wasn't enough they infested and consumed millions, provoked global genocides and intimidated the strongest of Terran forces, be in on Korhal or even on Earth. They also liked making civil war every time the top dog fell, in the most tribal, medieval way possible. Even when the Dominion was at the strongest, when they could've united, they were feuding one another, exactly what Mengsk would most enjoy and what he most wanted.

It was too much, especially for Sarah Kerrigan. She whom now was stepping slowly across the cavern that was the battlefield not so long ago. The bodies of Zerg minions, from both sides, remained there, decaying on all the blood and acid spilled in the ground.

"If you will allow, my Queen, I would like to deliver my apologies for-", Za'gara started, when she was interrupted.

"Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, coldly, but menacing and looking forward. "_Don't do it_. Don't stir my anger, especially with _apologies_. You should be thankful and consider yourself lucky that Abathur needs you. If it was up to me, you'd be a smoking husk back there. And if you value your life so much, _you better not apologize_. If you value your life this much, you better accept you fought me because you wanted to kill me and take my throne."

"With all honesty, I wanted, my Queen.", Za'gara replied. "I desired to be the new ruler. When I first saw you, I believed you to be a stripling, devoid of the might and power you once held, granted by the Overmind itself. But you have defeated me, without any doubt, so I recognize my submission to you."

"_Then why you're apologizing_?", Kerrigan asked, bitterly.

"For the fact that I had to fight the former Queen itself, even more with the rumors she had returned to Char and started fighting the Terrans.", Za'gara answered.

"You could have submitted easily, Za'gara, even asked for help.", Kerrigan said. "I'd have lent you my hand, but instead you tried to _rip_ my arm out!"

"It was necessary, my Queen, as I said.", Za'gara tried to defend herself. "The test of will demands it."

"What test, Za'gara!?", Kerrigan asked, angry, although continuing to look forward, gesturing at the bodies of the battles around her. "_This type of test!?_ Where you kill one another while your enemy grows more and more stronger?"

"Where the strongest Brood prevails and thrives, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "If the former strongest falls, the second strongest must be tested to become worthy. There cannot be a place for a weakling on rulership of the Swarm. The consequences would be disastrous."

"But you know what it'd cost, don't you, this petty war of yours?", Kerrigan asked, bitterly. "You could lose this planet. The very throne-world of the Swarm."

"As I heard before, Char is naught but just a world, like any other.", Za'gara said. "The importance of this world or not is only determined by an individual desire. Just as it was with you, Terrans. Before we arrived, your throne was in Tarsonis. Now, your throne rests on Korhal."

"We were forced to move, we couldn't fight the whole Swarm, at the time.", Kerrigan said. "This is different. This is where a stand should have been made, an alliance, _even_ if it's in selfish interest. At least, you'd give the Dominion a message, that we might be fallen, but we'll rather have the vermin eat our corpses than to ever allow the Dominion to stick a flag in our planet."

"Alliances become irrelevant. Most concepts known to you Terrans become irrelevant for the Zerg.", Za'gara said. "The Zerg only have need of themselves. Nothing more."

"So you like to work alone?", Kerrigan said. "You and the others?"

"Depending on others is often a sign of weakness, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "Weakness cannot be tolerated."

"Well, this 'sign of weakness' just_ bested_ you back there, Za'gara.", Kerrigan replied, bitter. "And it'd have _killed_ you were not for Abathur. I'd just have listened to Izsha and killed you where you stood. I can't believe what I'm doing, _sparing my would-be killer_, despite all she's done. And the worse is Izsha literally _barking_ on my head to kill you, what the hell was wrong with her!? If it's not a selfish desire or something personal, I can't figure out what it is..."

"If you permit, my Queen, I must say it is personal.", Za'gara said.

Kerrigan stopped her tracks for a moment, then turned around to face Za'gara, with an angry look on her eyes, her teeth grinding. Za'gara remained reprehended and hesitating.

"Why?", Kerrigan asked, calm, yet angry. "_What are you talking about?_"

Za'gara faced her superior for a moment.

"It occurred moments after your downfall, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "A meeting was called. Izsha had summoned us. We first believed you survived, yet lost the battle to destroy the Xel'Naga artifact. But Izsha, then, informed us of your... _downfall_, into a more Terran state."

Kerrigan's eyes tightened in the process as Za'gara then paused. "Go on.", Kerrigan said. coldly.

"The news of your defeat has roused anger and confusion amongst all Brood Mothers, even myself. Confusion in what to do, in response to your defeat. Some wanted to react immediately, taking advantage of the Dominion worlds compromised since the Terran Prince Valerian took half of the Terran fleet to the planet. Others wanted to stay their hand and wait until we were reinforced with more numbers before attempting something. One, in particular, wanted to start negotiations with the Dominion, in fear of the Xel'Naga artifact."

"_Zerg negotiating?_", Kerrigan asked, disdainfully. "Don't be absurd. Mengsk didn't want to negotiate before, he sure wouldn't do it now."

"The Brood Mother whom wanted so, C'Elt, was immediately talked down after such suggestion.", Za'gara said. "It was contradictory against the principles of the Swarm. Zerg do not negotiate, they do nor parlor. They respond and react. The discussion eventually led to a bickering in entitlement to rule the Swarm, starting with Kilysa, claiming she was the first Brood Mother and holder of most of the Swarm's Leviathans, which is true. Ro'Karr and Ryloth resisted, and then the rest followed. Hostile arguing erupted. That was before Izsha shouted out she was also eligible."

"And, let me guess, you didn't like it.", Kerrigan said, bitterly, crossing her arms.

"When Izsha was created, you, my Queen, have used her to store your thoughts and plans within her, besides utilizing her as your royal advisor.", Za'gara said. "She had no considerable psionic potential, nor command of a Brood, nor physical stature or strength, sharing her body with a Leviathan. We did not believe she could lead the Swarm. We had refused to accept so, thus we... Made little of her."

"Made little?", Kerrigan said, bitter, but getting increasingly angry. "Are you saying you all_ mocked_ her?"

"She was simply unfit for ruleship, in every possible aspect imagined.", Za'gara stated. "She was not meant for command, nor she would be, in a standard situation. We have simply pointed out that. This and her... Terran origin."

"You know what?", Kerrigan asked, lowering her crossed arms, and facing her. "Now here's where I ask: _How could you be so stupid!?_ Just because she wasn't like you, you had to deny her a chance? Not just that, you did worse, _you rubbed it on her face_! And I can bet you didn't _even_ consider she could fight back!"

"She declared so.", Za'gara answered. "We did not believe it, then."

"Well, _what about now_!?", Kerrigan asked, loud and angry. "She's not so weak, now, as you thought, is she? Now your Hive Cluster is practically ruined while she's applauding, all safe and comfortable in the Leviathan."

"Truth be told, my Queen, Izsha still remains weak.", Za'gara said. "It was you whom defeated me, not her."

"_And who do you think that brought me here_?", Kerrigan asked, firmly, as Za'gara stood looking. "Here, where I personally didn't want to be? That's right, _she did_. And she did what you'd consider weakness, she asked for my help. What did you think, that we'd crumble and you'd still walk away?"

"Given how you were, my Queen, I believed so.", Za'gara answered.

Kerrigan looked at Za'gara with naught but disgust in her eyes.

"So arrogant, so full of yourself, so cocky...", Kerrigan said, disgusted, turning around and starting to walk. "And I can't figure out if it's on you or if you built it up all those years..."

"With respect, my Queen, such beliefs were within us since our inception.", Za'gara replied. "An inception utilizing the template of the Queen of Blades."

Kerrigan suddenly stopped and turned around to face her again.

"Are you saying I made you?", Kerrigan asked. "_I_ made you like this? _All by myself_?"

"When you were our Queen, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "Made us with cunning and ambition, intelligence and confidence, with an absolute belief there was no equal to us, that we were ultimately superior to all. It was when you were great, when you were the Queen of Blades."

"_The girl you remember is dead, Za'gara._", Kerrigan said, firmly. "I'm another Kerrigan, one that can see more clearly the mistake I did during my said 'greatness'. And I'm seeing this arrogance, this said superiority you have, is what's leading your _great_ Swarm to ruin!"

"I do not understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "You state that we were born with a belief that is actually _false_? But... _The Queen of Blades believed so, as well_! She was powerful, she was perfect, she was superior-"

"_She was a monster, Za'gara_!", Kerrigan interrupted, angry. "Pure and simple! And now, you're getting to see what she really wrought."

"The greatness and superiority of the Swarm?", Za'gara asked.

"_The abomination it is_!", Kerrigan replied, firmly. "A race of killing monsters, wreaked in arrogance and delusions of superiority. And what was worse, I too was too blind, too proud of myself to see it."

"Why do you say so, my Queen?", Za'gara asked. "What has occurred to you to believe such?"

"I opened my eyes, Za'gara.", Kerrigan answered, disgusted. "It took that artifact to wake me up, but now I'm seeing what I did was wrong. _And how wrong it was_. You'll see, once you get to open your eyes, too."

Za'gara simply stared at her with a dumbfounded face.

"But my eyes _are_ open, my Queen, they can see everything.", Za'gara said. "They can see you as they can see this cave."

"_It's a figure of speech, Za'gara._", Kerrigan said, insulted. Then, she took a deep breath, as she turned around and started to walk again. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand it..."

"I...", Za'gara said. "I could learn, my Queen. Learn to understand."

Kerrigan scoffed, in irony.

"_Learn? You?_", Kerrigan asked, bitterly. "I doubt very much you could do that, Za'gara. Not to mention that this lesson isn't something you just hear and then immediately understand. Give yourself time, wait until you get it."

"A lesson that demands time...", Za'gara pondered. "This seems quite... _unproductive_, my Queen."

"Everything must be productive with you too, isn't it?", Kerrigan asked.

"Is it not what matters within the Swarm, my Queen?", Za'gara asked back. "What is productive and what is not?"

"Actually, it doesn't matter to me.", Kerrigan replied. "What matters to me, right now, is how am I going to face Izsha after all this..."

"You say this like if you are her puppet, my Queen.", Za'gara asked, slightly suspicious.

"So you figured it out, huh?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically. "_What took you so long?_"

"But why her, my Queen?", Za'gara asked. "Why, out of all you could have served, you chose_ her_?"

"_Does it looks like I chose, Za'gara_!?", Kerrigan said, tense. "She _came_ to me. She got me from where I was, and right on the worst moment possible."

"And you have not even reacted, my Queen?", Za'gara asked.

"I was too weak, at the moment.", Kerrigan said. "But then, we got to a common agreement, since it was she whom came to offer it."

"You agreed to be her _puppet_?", Za'gara asked, appalled. "Why? Why have you not destroyed her and then claimed her Brood for yourself?"

"_Are you deaf, Za'gara?_", Kerrigan asked, insulted. "I said I was too weak, before!"

"And what of _now_, my Queen?", Za'gara asked. "Why not destroy her, now that your might recovers by the moment?"

"It's tempting, but no.", Kerrigan answered. "I'll need her for when I leave all this, after I get what I want."

"_When you leave_?", Za'gara asked, her eyes widening. "Do you not pretend to remain our Queen?"

"When I'm done with Mengsk and his Dominion, Izsha takes over.", Kerrigan simplified. "That's the agreement."

"_That is absurd, my Queen_!", Za'gara protested.

Kerrigan stopped her tracks again as Za'gara stopped, realizing the mistake.

"You think so?", Kerrigan asked, although she didn't turn.

"Pardon me, my Queen, but that is true.", Za'gara said. "Izsha has no power at all, and what she claims is rightfully yours, as you fight her battles for her. She has no strength, nor psionic capacity, she has nothing that makes her capable of ruling!"

Kerrigan turned around.

"Well, you say so much of her, but what of_ you_, Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, staring at her. "What makes you capable of ruling? You couldn't even rule the battle here. As I see it, Izsha seems to know what she's doing, you don't."

"Izsha believes so, my Queen, but her plans would bring more harm to the Swarm than benefit.", Za'gara argued.

"Well, as you said, she inherited those plans from me, right?", Kerrigan asked, disdainfully. "So it's to _me_ you should be complaining about them, not to her."

"You were our Queen by the time you made such plans and stored them within Izsha.", Za'gara said. "We had no right to disagree. Not to mention you executed those whom dared to question or disobey your bidding."

"And now, Za'gara?", Kerrigan said, menacingly inviting. "Go ahead, say it on my face, I'll let you. I promise I'll contain myself and won't rip you apart."

Za'gara hesitated.

"I... Can not, my Queen.", Za'gara resigned.

"_I knew it._", Kerrigan said, disappointed. "Just like I imagined. But you'll still won't agree with Izsha being the Queen, right?"

"Such possibility is too difficult to accept.", Za'gara said. "Her... I mean, your plans, my Queen, would assure the end of the Swarm, as they have defeated you, before."

"Then let's pretend something.", Kerrigan said, approaching Za'gara. "Let's say you have won that battle, that you got those eggs before I did and then defeated me and Izsha. What you would do about the Dominion, then? How would you drive them off Char? And, _here's the catchy part_, how would you bring the fight back to the Dominion and defeat them?"

"I would fight as I have demonstrated to you, my Queen.", Za'gara answered, plainly. "Fight as a Brood Mother."

"So you'd just throw all the numbers you've got at that fortress, out there?", Kerrigan asked. "I've seen what they've got, Za'gara. And even with all the artillery they got, the air force they got, the numbers and gun emplacements and nuclear missiles they've got, you'd just throw them? Just like that?"

"And why not, my Queen?", Za'gara asked. "A frontal, massive assault is not the best form to defeat all enemies of the Swarm?"

"It's _stupidity_ when you know it'll make massive losses.", Kerrigan answered.

"Losses are irrelevant to the Swarm, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "Our numbers far outmatch their own, and can always be replaced."

"But they still outmatch you, because they predict that's exactly what you'll do.", Kerrigan said. "That's why they've got so much defenses, they _want_ you to strike directly, without any flanking or exploring their weakness, just throwing numbers to die. Then, they fight back and they kill you on your own grounds. All because you simply hit up front and nothing more! It doesn't even sound like you can plan ahead, it doesn't even seem like you have _vision_ at all!"

"Vision, my Queen?", Za'gara asked, dumbfound. "I do not understand, I _have_ vision. Vision of the cavern we are inside, it's cliffs, it's abyss, it's rocks-"

"_It's not this kind of vision, Za'gara!_", Kerrigan interrupted, angry. She then dismissed it, letting out a growl as she turned around. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand that too."

"Vision that is not vision...", Za'gara wondered, as Kerrigan began to walk. "I certainly do not understand, my Queen."

"How do you think I defeated you, right then?", Kerrigan asked. "Haven't you even got curious?"

"I am not, nor do I need to be, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "It was obvious you outnumbered me."

"Not that, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, bitter. "I'm saying _before_, when I was getting the eggs. How do you think I did it?"

"Respectfully, you have taken advantage of the battle that gathered.", Za'gara said. "You have circled around the battle, collecting the eggs while I was occupied with the battle."

"_Exactly._", Kerrigan said. "And that's just the very basic of doing battle. And you failed. You failed to see ahead, failed to see there was something else ahead. And when you realized, it was _too late_ to do something about it."

"So...", Za'gara hesitated. "This vision that is not vision is the same as cunning, my Queen?"

"_What!?_", Kerrigan asked, suddenly. "No!"

"Viciousness, then?", Za'gara asked.

"No, damn you!", Kerrigan said, resting her right hand on her forehead, in disbelief of the epic absurd the Brood Mother spilled. "You're getting it all wrong! No offense, Za'gara, but... *sigh* I just... don't want to explain about it right now."

"I understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "If you ever wish to explain later, I shall be listening then."

"_Good._", Kerrigan said, dryly. By the time they noticed, both were by the cave entrance that led to Kerrigan's Hive Cluster, that continued to operate normally. Both had crossed the tunnel and went up the ramp, when they saw two things, each looking at a different one.

Za'gara had seen a Nydus Worm, by the Hive Cluster, apparently leading to the Leviathan, while Kerrigan saw the tunnel that could, or not, lead outside the cavern. Each went their way when Za'gara, noticing Kerrigan was heading the other way around, had stopped her tracks.

"My Queen?", Za'gara asked, turning when Kerrigan stopped. "Where are you going?"

"I'm headed back.", Kerrigan answered. "But not through _there._ I've had my share of the Drool Express for today."

"I do not understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "The Nydus Worm is our safest and fastest means to travel-"

"I'm taking the longer walk, Za'gara, whether you like it or not.", Kerrigan said, dryly. "You can head through there and go ahead, if you want, but I'm not what might happen when Izsha sees you alone and I'm along."

With this, Kerrigan simply stepped through that tunnel.

Za'gara paused for a moment before deciding to follow, forsaking the Nydus Worm completely.

* * *

**BELLMONT AVENUE, SOUTHERN TOWN, NEW CANAAN**

Everywhere she could see from the viewing window of the Shikouto Coupe, she could see people walking around, having their business as the marketplace a few blocks ahead was busy with the commotion, people of most ages walking to buy either food or other material needs the Dawn Street commercial area had to offer. There were times, many times, in which people would cross the street, which disturbed a bit the car traffic around the area. The buildings towered over, all more higher than a house as taking more space, though the heights varied considerably. A soda seller had just passed by, announcing his teenage beverage all around, as Nova tried to focus on skimming through the file again, trying to get distracted from the infernal loud noise outside, courtesy of some idiot playing a Neo-Rap through the amplified jukebox, installed in the trunk of a pick-up truck a few cars ahead of the Coupe.

The car started moving again, slowly, when it suddenly braked again, because of a woman with a kid rashly crossing the avenue at the very last moment. This made Nova move forward, suddenly alert as Tremm honked the horn.

"_Fekkin' hag..._", Tremm complained, frustrated, as he rested his back on the driver's seat.

"Is it _always_ like this, every day?", Nova asked.

"Gets worse on weekends.", Tremm answered. "Thing gets more crowded than a whole Zerg Brood and it's mother."

"And you're sure it's the only road to base?", Nova asked back.

"There's not much of an option.", Tremm said. "Left road is under maintenance and the right one is said to have a riot shortly. Besides, base is six blocks from here."

"How frequent are these?", Nova asked, looking at Tremm. "The riots, I mean?"

"More and more by the month, especially after that son of a bitch Raynor broadcasted that recording on Korhal.", Tremm said like if the fact had an awful taste on his mouth. Nova understood pretty well, because it wasn't just that Raynor had done to hurt the Dominion. Although, too, that one hurt badly. "There's been more and more rising up, and some are even beginning to go out armed. We already got five Marines hospitalized."

"And the Marines, themselves, aren't they fighting back?", Nova asked.

"They are, and that's the problem!", Tremm exclaimed. "It's stirring them to do more and more, and give a motive for open rebellion! Worse is the Liberal Front stirring it all up even more."

"_Liberal Front?_", Nova asked, curious.

"Thought the name said it all by itself, lady.", Tremm said, looking at her. "Movement wanting democracy, free from Dominion government, new currency, new laws, own constitution, the works. They're underground, but they love to hack the broadcasts every random day in the week."

"_And why the hell Emperor Mengsk didn't put up the Program on this?_", Nova asked, angry.

"_You think he didn't try?_", Tremm asked, insulted. "We tried picking up suspects, interrogation, stake-outs and urban tracking, but these ones aren't like your usual folks whom tend to screw up. They use separate, expendable transmitters, are fragmented and only pass out information mouth to mouth."

"Have you tried tracing the meetings, encounters and other things?", Nova asked.

"We did.", Tremm answered. "But our people nearly got caught twice. We were about to give it a new try when the bosses came in with this mission."

"Do you know anything of the target we're going to track?", Nova asked.

"Whom is it?", Tremm asked back.

"Professor Lionel Brahe.", Nova answered.

"Wow, we got to track him?", Tremm asked, surprised. "He's practically the most known in town, in the field of genetics and other stuff. A real tough guy on the matter, on what I told, but also likes to be the _connoisseur_. He often attends events in other towns across the planet."

"He lectures, too?", Nova asked.

"Tuesdays and Fridays, local science academy.", Tremm answered. "What's up with him, anyways, that we gotta track him?"

"He's involved with the assignment.", Nova answered. "And his record gives every reason to make a trace on him."

"Yeah, but a biology professor?", Tremm asked. "What, he's breeding a giant lizard army, or something?"

Tremm let out a joking laughter as Nova simply stared at him, not laughing at all.

"_What?_", Tremm asked, as he looked at her serious face. "You didn't find that funny?"

"I never find it funny when it's-", Nova said, before a gunshot was fired.

Though the shot couldn't be seen by anyone of the street, could be heard close enough to make people get scared, scream and run amscray. More shots repeated before Tremm got on alert.

"What the hell!?", Tremm asked, alarmed. "I thought they wouldn't start earlier!"

"What!?", Nova asked, alarmed. "Who!?"

"_The rioters, dammit_!", Tremm asked, alarmed, starting to look around for spaces around the street for the Coupe to drive. "Didn't you hear what I told, they're going armed, lately! Fasten the belt, we're getting military on this one!"

Starting to push the vehicle to it's limit, Tremm had started to drive the vehicle to the left side, past the line of cars and it's left wheels over the sidewalk, the pedestrians nearby moving away scared from both the shots and the vehicle trying to get out of there fast. Looking around her surroundings, she could see the street in the intersection ahead was crowded by people, though not in a positive manner. Many of those people were out, carrying flags and signposts with words of protest, shouting words of order. One of the signposts had a drawing of the Dominion shield and a negative, prohibited sign drawn over it. The other signposts, ones Nova could see as Tremm tried to drive past the intersection, had words like 'FREEDOM! FOREVER!', 'ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!', 'DOMINION = DICTATORSHIP' and 'MOVE OUT, MENGSK!'.

"**DOWN WITH MENGSK! DOWN WITH MENGSK!**", the crowd shouted in unison, repeatedly, when they weren't shouting feral growls at the people headed to meet them. People encased in red-clad suits, weapons armed.

"This is the Dominion Military Security!", a voice could be heard through an amplified PA system. "This is our only warning! Disperse immediately or be fired upon! You have ten seconds to comply!"

Fortunately, Tremm's Coupe had crossed the intersection and was forcing it's way through the next intersection, which would lead to a road more clear. Behind her, outside, Nova could now hear C-14 rifle bursts, as well as screams of agony and panic.

"Well, that about summons it, miss Terra.", Tremm said, ironically. "Welcome to New Canaan."

* * *

**SOMEWHERE, IN THE DAELAAM ARK...**

Pain ached from within her body on what would seem for eons on end. Her body was weakened, as was her will, just too fragile to hold the burden. She could feel the cold touching her skin, often reminding her of the pain, from the wounds she felt out of the one she was supposed to trust, yet he wounded her beyond recognition. She often wondered if he did the same to about every student or if that was reserved to the very sister of the High Executor. The skin weakly absorbed the air it could in an attempt to alleviate the pain, but it just hurt to much.

Lasarra then opened her eyes, realizing she was inside a poorly illuminated chamber. The continued humming meant she was inside the Daelaam Ark, although this area was completely unknown to her. Not much could be seen from the chamber, given the poor lightning and the position where she was. She noticed her body was hanging, her arms being held by shackles that imprisoned her to a large, metal support attached to the darkened ceiling above. She could feel her feet trapped, inside a footwear plating, akin to those utilized by Zealots, although those were seemingly attached to the bases on the floor. It was all set so she wouldn't fall, not even when unconscious. She tried motioning a bit both her hands on the shackles to see they were firmly attached, without any intention to break out. So much as the footwear below, intended on keeping her toe digits in place as well as her feet, preventing any movement below the waist at all.

She noticed her whole skin was feeling cold. She arched her head below to notice she was devoid of any clothing, of any body armor at all. Only a thin, small piece of fabric remained on her waist, covering her private body section from possible gaze of anyone. But, other than that, she was completely semi-nude.

"Prisoner.", spoke a gruff, grave male voice before her. She raised her head to see a pair of blue eyes, as well as a blue, chest jewel glowing afar. Energy lines ran across what would seem to be a chest plate. "Can you listen?"

Lasarra said nothing, only locked her eyes on the shadowy figure, that walked forward slowly into the dim light to reveal his form, a Protoss warrior encased in gold-plated armor. His steps were heavy and echoed on the chamber, even soft ones, like did. A Zealot, she could recognize. One whose small line of garments denoted his affiliation as a warrior of the Auriga Tribe. Although, she could see no Psi Blades activated on either wrist of his.

"I will not repeat again, prisoner.", the Zealot said, calm, yet menacing. "_Can you listen_?"

Lasarra simply stared at the Zealot.

"Yes.", Lasarra, said, weakly, although with a bit of defiance, all she could muster. The Zealot noticed she continued to deadlock him.

"Try and stare all you desire, female, but your look will _hardly_ intimidate me.", the Zealot commented, coldly. "I am a Zealot, one trained to fear nothing. I have seen worse looks from Zerglings I have slaughtered during the Battle of Artika. Now, who are you? What is your name?"

Lasarra simply stared at him.

"I have no name.", Lasarra said, coldly. "I am no one."

The Zealot simply looked behind her, nodding his head. Then, suddenly, she felt something hit her back. Something heavy and sharp, that made her shut her eyes tightly in pain, Lasarra struggling to avoid letting out a scream. She only let out a small yelp. The new pain ached with a bit more intensity than the rest, from previously.

"An answer strange.", the Zealot said, cold-hearted. "_Yet a lie_. The reputation of someone related to you, apparently, seems to speak otherwise, _Lasarra_, sister to Selendis, our esteemed High Executor."

Lasarra raised her eyes in disbelief, in shock of the knowledge that this warrior possessed. '_He must have been told._', she thought.

"Are you surprised, female?", the Zealot asked, coldly, with a bit of arrogance. "Did you really believe we would not know? Did you expect we would not know everything about you, before we were even here? And, answering your question, I _was_ told, prisoner. Told by the one you trusted."

Lasarra remained quiet, and thought nothing since. She realized the worst. She was betrayed.

"You can now feel the treason, can you not?", the Zealot asked, with arrogance. "Truth be told, you are a greater fool than I expected. I thought you have realized, that the Executor has more _important_ issues to deal with than training one so selfish and insolent as you. Did you really expect he would instruct you and accomplish a delusional fantasy of yours? Do even you know where you are, or will you presume as well?"

"I do not have to.", Lasarra said. "The roar of ship engines denounces it. I am still in the Daelaam Ark."

She was struck again, twice, this time. She couldn't see what it was that was striking her, but it certainly hurt more than the abusive beating Raseac had given her.

"'The roar of ship engines'?", the Zealot asked, menacingly. "_Are you so arrogant, female_!? Or perhaps too _imbecile_!? Have you considered that this sound could be easily imitated to confuse you? To deliver you a false impression of security? What assures you, prisoner, that you are not returned to Shakuras, beneath the chambers of the Hierarchy Assembly, in Talematros itself!?"

"No, it is impossible, we are too far, now, for the holy Ark to return-", Lasarra claimed, before she was struck once more. She let out a sharp yelp of pain on this one, as this was more stronger.

"Do not presume, female!", the Zealot exclaimed, angry. "_Do not dare_! You have already made my day as more occupied and infernal as it can get! I shall make you _regret_, should you decide to make it even more worse! Now, if you are done presuming, I would like you to imagine, Lasarra. To imagine the surprise of the Hierarch himself, as well as your sister, when both saw the Ark had returned to Shakuras _so soon_! Imagine the anger and humiliation the High Executor was forced to pass through, when Executor Raseac had come to her, informing of your _intent_ to train as a Zealot, without the sanctioned approval of the Executor herself!"

Lasarra widened her eyes in disbelief. She knew it had to be impossible, but the look on the Zealot's eye, who's not even flinched, seemed to say entirely otherwise.

"_No..._", Lasarra whispered, nervous and increasingly desperate. "No, this is impossible. It is a test! _It must be_!"

Lasarra then felt a new struck, even more stronger than the others. She yelped in pain as her body arched in reaction.

"A test?", the Zealot scoffed. "Believe what you want, female. I can very well shake, or perhaps crumble this belief... _Once I bring your sister before you_."

"You are lying.", Lasarra said, in denial. "She is not here, and if she is, she is just a Hallucination!"

"_And how can you know_?", the Zealot asked, in defiance. "What assures you she is not outside this chamber, as we speak, past that very door, listening to your pathetic attempts in resisting interrogation!?"

"You would not do that...", Lasarra said, nervous.

Lasarra was then struck again. Three times, in a vicious manner.

"_I would, female_!", the Zealot exclaimed, bravely. "I fool you not... I _certainly_ would. Unless you start answering me what I would like to hear. What much did you learn? How much did you train with the Executor!?"

"What?", Lasarra asked, dumbfounded, occupied with the pain striking her than with the questions asked. "No, I trained nothing, I could not-"

Lasarra was struck another time, though only once this time.

"Why should I believe you?", the Zealot asked. "You even tried to enter the warrior caste on your sister's very _backside_! Again, how much did you train?"

"I have said to you, I trained nothing!", Lasarra exclaimed, desperate. "The Executor was whom struck me, I have-"

Suddenly however, the left arm of the Zealot had flared up, a Psi Blade erupting from it's wrist piece, emanating mist and power of the psionics gathered to form the energy-based weapon. Lasarra's eyes widened.

"_You dare!?_", the Zealot asked, coldly, yet menacing and seemingly furious. "You dare mention the Executor had done something!? You have the audacity to raise questioning on his name and esteemed honor!?"

"_It is the truth!_", Lasarra exclaimed, nervous, as the Zealot approached her with the Psi Blade, aiming it at her. "By Adun's sacred name, I swear, I am not lying!"

The Zealot had then closed the Psi Blade close to her neck.

"_I find it hard to believe, blasphemer..._", the Zealot said coldly before he grabbed Lassara with his strong right hand, exposing the chest's right side, moved the Psi-Blade close to Lasarra's chest and quickly slid it, cutting a flesh wound through her. Some blue, luminent blood began to run out as Lasarra let out a loud scream that was readily silenced when the Zealot had smacked her face.

He set the Psi Blade to the same location, although a bit more below the first wound.

"And never dare to speak the Benevolent One's name in vain again, **EVER!**", the Zealot roared as he slid and cut a new wound, making Lasarra scream again in pain. Again, he struck her face, shutting off her scream, though now she was yelping in pain and agony. The Zealot didn't seem affected by the screams or her pain, at all, simply looking at her with disgust and disdain as he stepped back a bit.

"Do you wish more... _female_?", the Zealot asked, disdainfully.

"Please...", Lasarra said, in pain and agony, her eyes closed in agony as her body ached. "_No more..._"

"Will you speak, then?", the Zealot asked. "Will you answer me my questions!?"

"_I have answered!_", Lasarra exclaimed, in desperation. "I have trained and learned nothing!"

Livid, the Zealot approached her and struck her face violently, with enough strength for her to bend aside, as she would've fell, were not for her restraints.

"You dare test my patience, prisoner!?", the Zealot asked, furious. "Listen well, you are nothing here, nothing but an animal which I can wound again and again, if I so desire it! No one will help you! NO ONE! So, you either tell me what I have to hear, or I will make you regret your existence!"

Suddenly, the chamber's doors, shaped like a shell, opened, revealing another Zealot standing by it. He was by a corridor much more illuminated than a chamber, as the light lightened the back of the Zealot before Lasarra and the edge of her right, shackled hand. She, however, was not looking, staring down, trying to cope with the pain and the newly gained flesh wounds, as blue blood leaked from them, dripping down her exposed waist, staining the thin line holding it.

"Biblos!", the Zealot outside called. The Zealot close to her noticed the call and turned around.

"What is it, Achenar!?", the Zealot, 'Biblos', asked, angrily. "I am occupied here!"

"It is urgent, Preator!", Achenar said. "It is the sixth chamber! The Tal'Darim scum attempted to terminate himself, once more!"

Biblos then growled in anger and frustration. "I will be there shortly.", he said, bitterly, before Achenar nodded and headed to his left, leaving his sight. The tall Zealot then turned around, to Lasarra, and grabbed her neck forcingly, making her stare at him even if she wouldn't like. His grip hurt so much as his strokes.

"Listen, female!", Biblos growled. "_This is not finished!_ Do you understand!? And when I return, you had better be more willing to co-operate!"

Biblos finished the matter by smacking her one last time.

"N'arkham!", Biblos roared, furious, turning around to step out leave. "Come!"

Lasarra could see the shadow of someone walking by her right side, in slow, but equally heavy steps. She raised her head to look at the figure whom, obviously, struck her back before. The figure was covered in wraps and rags, on wrists and ankles, as silver colored shoulder plates and torso, painted from the skulls of slain Zerg, covered his body. The very helmet was the dissected and cleaned skull of a Hydralisk, whose jaws decorated the cheeks of his face, whom had a face mask and green eyes. His back bore a large, ragged cape.

A Zer'atai Dark Templar. One of the Nerazim. Whom looked at her with a face of disappointment, as he held something on his arms that she could presume it was what he hit her back with. His twin Void Blade staff, that emanated green Psi-Blades that reminded a scythe, though both edges were opposing one another. The staff was turned off, though, meaning he only used it for physical torture.

After briefly looking at her, he turned around to leave. When the chamber was apparently empty, the chamber's shell door closed off. Lasarra only looked down, closing her eyes in regret and despair, in a reprieve too tense and certainly not so promising.

It was as Raseac told her. She didn't want to believe, she wanted to believe she was still in the Ark, but all seemed to point otherwise. She wanted to believe it was a test, but Achenar's interference seemed to diminish such hope.

Such it always was. It began with pain. It would end with sorrow.

_Her_ pain. _Her_ sorrow.

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - '_HARKONNEN_'**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

"_We can't contact them too_!?", Horace Warfield asked, surprised and nervous, inside his suit on the POC. "You're kidding, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid not, General.", McGrudd answered. "It's been more than an hour and we still have had no contact."

"I don't believe it...", Warfield said, closing his eyes in frustration as he then started walking around, nervous, trying to contain himself. It wasn't enough that more than eighty men had vanished to then be found dead in the caverns, now he had no contact with the spotter team he sent to that monster. No doubt, that Leviathan had everything to do with it.

He was fearing the worst. First, was the arrival of reinforcements along with more weapons and ammunition, that already raised a suspicion on the veteran three-star General. But even then, the target that escaped Dominion justice wouldn't have returned to the Swarm, she'd rather be on the _Hyperion_ with Raynor and the young, now deserter Crown Prince, deciding what to do next and how to do it. Now, eighy-six troopers and two Ghosts were just lost, and it was all related to the giant monster, pretty much like the one Prince Valerian and the Raiders had destroyed in the orbital engagement, days ago.

"McGrudd.", Warfield called, turning to the British officer. "How long can we prepare a missile for launch?"

"Within three hours, but even so we'd need spotter teams to paint the bloody thing.", McGrudd answered. "Ones with good, clear sight and cloaking technology as well."

"They might be killed like Hetfield and McCoy were, for all I know.", Warfield said, leaning on the Tactical Map table.

"We can't be sure of that, General.", McGrudd said.

"We already lost an entire company, and on the same manner.", Warfield said. "What's to say the Zerg didn't do something, this time?"

"That's highly unlikely, General.", spoke one of the operators close by, the same Caucasian female with a brown-hair ponytail, Beth. "We have had no response, true, but the communications equipment is still being transmitted. It's just like it's waiting to be used."

Warfield approached Beth's terminal, along with McGrudd.

"Are you saying they're transmitting, they're just not _answering_?", Warfield asked to Beth.

"Affirmative, General.", Beth said, typing on her terminal's keyboard to show the map of the Dauntless Plateau, set to filter only the radio wave channels. A continuous circle of fading waves continued showing on a mountain range, where the Leviathan was, while a strong one was shown exactly where the _Harkonnen_ fortress was. "We are still receiving and transmitting signals, as well as the spotter team sent an hour ago. We'd have noticed if we lost the signals as well, but it continues transmitting, as if the equipment is intact."

"This may be an opportunity, General.", McGrudd said. "I have had McCoy and Hetfield set up with photo and video cameras, for recon in case we'd need to set up a strike. This may help us determine whom we're dealing with."

"As well as confirming our deepest fears.", Warfield said, letting out a sigh. "Get me a cloaker up there, McGrudd, no try to search and rescue, just get up there, find if there's anyone, and get info back if it's intact."

"The beast may have surveillance, sir.", McGrudd commented. "Their Overlords have a means to detect Ghosts."

"Send in some Vikings as distraction, then.", Warfield said. "We'll give the damn thing and whatever's controlling it something to get busy with. Have the fighters shoot the Overlords and avoid anything else, try to delay until the cloaker has done his or her job."

"It will take a minimum of thirty minutes before we can send off the fighters.", McGrudd said.

"Send the cloaker twenty minutes ahead, get him as close as he can to McCoy and Hetfield's position.", Warfield said. "Make a go code for the fighters. Dismissed."

With this, McGrudd stepped away from Warfield and left the Command Room as the General walked back to the Tactical Map, viewing the three-dimensional map of the Dauntless Plateau.

Pretty soon, he thought, he'd know what he was dealing with.

Or, worse, with _who_...

* * *

**BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

The warmth she faced from the surface, as she returned to atop after a long walk, was something she didn't like the most, but seemingly the Brood Mother wasn't bothered by such changes. A warmth that bothered more than comforted a person. Za'gara took a look into the Terran constructs in the plateau afar as she went up the steep hill of the Blackrock Twins, following her Queen.

"_Insolent Terrans..._", Za'gara growled, bitterly. "They have the _audacity_ to defile Zerg ground with their impure, inorganic constructs!"

"The Swarm infested our homes before, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, slightly tired and annoyed. "Antiga, Mar Sara, Tarsonis... With this, I'd say we've had our fair share."

"So you... _Approve_ the occupation of these Terrans on our world, my Queen?", Za'gara asked, appalled.

"I would, if they belonged to someone else.", Kerrigan said, bitterly. "But they're with the one I want his head. And so, I have to kick them out."

"You seem often concerned with an individual desire for gratification through the death of one specific.", Za'gara said. "What the Terrans and Protoss call _vengeance_. Is it not rather an unreliable reasoning to command the Swarm?"

"Isn't it reason enough for you?", Kerrigan asked, nervous. "Why else would you do something like that?"

"For the Swarm, my Queen.", Za'gara answered, dumbfounded. "For it's undisputed superiority, it's strength, it's unity."

Kerrigan scoffed in sarcasm.

"I've been fighting for governments long before you were born, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, bitterly. "For causes people love to shout from the tongue out: _Freedom, Honor, Duty, Adventure..._ I once thought those things, like you're doing. I once believed and followed even orders to murder innocent people for those things. _Look where's brought me, now_."

"So you... Do not believe in any concept, my Queen, no longer?", Za'gara asked.

"I only believe in one thing.", Kerrigan answered. "That I'll be on Arcturus Mengsk's throne room, on top of him, with my hands around his neck as I repay all the favor he did me on Tarsonis. And I bullshit you not, Za'gara... _Vengeance will be mine_."

"And then... You shall leave us?", Za'gara asked, hesitating.

"I will.", Kerrigan answered, dryly. "I'm through with fighting this war, Za'gara. I don't want to know about anything else once Mengsk is dead."

"Why not?", Za'gara asked. "Do you have nothing else to fight for?"

"What I had is dead.", Kerrigan said, remembering her loved one. "And Mengsk made sure of it, before I came here."

Za'gara remained quiet since, continuing to walk up the steep hill. Kerrigan had caught side of Zerg minions walking by the hill up close, Zerglings and Roaches, standing guard. She was close to returning. Close to facing flak for what happened down there. Za'gara could see the aerial strains that weren't her own roaring the red-orange sky above, Overlords and some Mutalisks as well. She looked to her left to see more and more minions roaming around, as they seemed to guard the titanic body of the Zerg beast that Kerrigan, or Izsha, commanded.

It was then when she saw the gigantic head of the Zerg Leviathan, an insectile head, with it's mouth open, There was room to enter, despite the apparent huge tusks from the sides of it's mouth. The eyes were insectile, reminding of earthly bees. Za'gara only watched all of it, even the enormous top section of the Leviathan, with it's row of spikes, with fascination and impression. Kerrigan, herself, stepped forward to see the mouth was open, but there was almost no one in sight. Izsha was nowhere to be seen, not even on the corner she used to take. She then turned around to see Za'gara was distracted looking at every corner of the Leviathan, with a hidden amazement akin to a child visiting a theme park for the first time, looking around as the eye was filled with wonders and the mind assimilated the visual details caught.

"You look impressed.", Kerrigan commented.

"Truly impressed I am, my Queen.", Za'gara replied, walking. "Such a beast so enormous, _so majestic_... The acumen of the might of the Swarm."

"You're sounding like you never boarded one of those.", Kerrigan said.

"True, my Queen.", Za'gara agreed. "I myself have never boarded a Leviathan."

"_Funny._", Kerrigan said, dryly. "Being a General of sorts for the Zerg, I thought you'd have your privileges. Like owning one of these."

"Truth be told, I was never issued a Leviathan, my Queen.", Za'gara replied.

"Why not?", Kerrigan asked, as Za'gara then turned her sights to her Queen. Between both, though both didn't saw, Izsha had come out crawling of the hole attached, her eyes fierce on seeing the couple. She seemed rather livid given both were speaking and, especially, given they were this late.

"You have created me to specifically take care of Char, my Queen, when you were the absent from the planet.", Za'gara answered.

"And if you expect to caretake it for much _longer_, Brood Mother, you'll be wise to mind your manners here!", Kerrigan heard a voice to her right, as she turned around to see Izsha was present, yet she was staring furiously at Za'gara. "Kerrigan may have leniency typical of Terrans, but I _don't_! Why the hell didn't you use the Nydus Worm?", she added, staring at Kerrigan when she asked the question.

"You know damn well why, Izsha.", Kerrigan answered, coldly, staring back at her. "And I can see you haven't calmed down, yet."

"No thanks to you.", Izsha replied, bitterly tightening her eyes. "You spare her, you bring her here, you take the longest route... What will come _next_, I wonder? You'll make up a tea part with liquid from a Spawning Pool and invite her, I bet!?"

"Maybe I could.", Kerrigan said, with a tone of defiance. "Curiously, you look much more beautiful when you're angry."

Her anger stirred by the insult, Izsha grinded her teeth as tentacles started coming out of holes around the Nerve Center and gathering to her, their warhead-like spikes all aimed at both Kerrigan and Za'gara. The Brood Mother hissed as the Puppet Queen simply stared at them.

"Go ahead, laugh it up, little girl!", Izsha said, menacingly. "I assure you, _these_ look much more beautiful with blood on them!"

Ignoring her threats after a pause, as both stared at each other, Kerrigan silently walked closer, expecting the tentacles to back off, which they did, as Kerrigan slowly traveled to the flesh door deep within the Nerve Center. A glance of satisfaction was within her. The feeling of managing to get up on Izsha, especially because of Za'gara, was a victory, however small, for her. In the meanwhile, Izsha had been watching Kerrigan step in and then changed her look to Za'gara.

"Oh, I'm so tempted to use them on you, right now...", Izsha said, menacingly.

"Always mistrustful of others, Izsha?", Za'gara asked, defiantly. "To the point of disobeying and even threatening she who should be your Queen?"

"For days on end.", Izsha replied, coldly, the tentacles recoiling back to the holes where they came from. "And the issues between me and Kerrigan aren't your business, so keep your grasper limbs very well away from them!"

"So it is true.", Za'gara said. "You do indeed _puppeteer_ our Queen. Typical of a weakling like you, who cannot even fight. You can only talk, think and sneak. Much like you intended with your previous plan."

"Oh, spare me the political intrigue...", Izsha said, disdainfully.

"As you should spare me your attempts to _shield_ your mind.", Za'gara said. "I can still see you have left your feelings concerning the reunion _untouched_. I can still feel your anger, your rage, as well as your agony and the fury it has built as you served our Queen, before! As well as how you intended to _strike down_ the Queen of Blades, the moment you were released off your bonds of servitude!"

Kerrigan, whom was walking slowly, could easily listen the conversation. What Za'gara said made her stop when she said something about Izsha striking her down. She widened her eyes as anger and suprise took hold of her.

"_What!?_", Kerrigan asked, shocked and angry.

"You insolent-", Izsha started, furious, approaching Za'gara.

"_Did I just hear it right!?_", Kerrigan asked, angry, returning to approach Izsha. Za'gara only stared at the Queen, her glowing eyes telling it alone to Kerrigan. The Ghost lady widened her eyes, shocked. She always knew Izsha was, to an extent, not a so good person. But to want to kill Kerrigan, on her very back... It was simply evil.

"You were actually planning to _murder_ me...", Kerrigan mumbled, shocked, looking down to the fleshy ground.

"When you _were_ the Queen of Blades! Too bad this plan went to hell along with the rest of the Swarm, thanks to your so loved Jimmy!", Izsha defended herself, approaching Kerrigan with furious eyes. After a while, however, she let out a scoff and returned to her usual position. "But now I don't see it necessary, with you contributing so much to restore the Swarm, even if it's just to waste it again fighting Mengsk. Honestly... I don't know whether I should thank him or curse him for the Xel'Naga artifact he fired."

Kerrigan only looked at Izsha with disbelief and disgust. She could hardly find a word to describe what she thought of her new employer by then. Behind her, Za'gara had stepped inside the fleshy Nerve Center, and started walking within it to the door of flesh deep within.

"With your permission, my Queen, I shall be in the surroundings, attempting to find proper accommodation.", Za'gara said, but Kerrigan refused to say anything at all. "Should you require my services, summon me at your discretion."

Za'gara creeped behind her as the flesh door opened itself, leading to the deep interior of the Leviathan. Crossing it, Za'gara continued to explore it's innards with fascination, despite the previous scene.

"_Fascinating, indeed..._", Za'gara mumbled, as she left.

Kerrigan simply continued to stare at Izsha as she stared back. Kerrigan tried to say something, her mouth trembled, but it let out no sound at all.

"Come on.", Izsha teased, staring at her. "_Do it._ I know you want to. Do your worst."

Kerrigan however, had done nothing, not even flashing her eye pupils. Disgusted, she turned around to the fleshy door and crossed it as it opened. Tracking her with her dark eyeballs as her puppet then left the Nerve Center, Izsha let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

"What a great day it's being...", she concluded, sarcastically, as she resumed her look to the outside.

* * *

**OUTSKIRTS OF PROTOSS OUTPOST, HAVEN**  
**TWENTY SEVEN KILOMETERS FROM SANCTUARY COLONY**  
**NIGHT TIME**

It was literally full moon when night had fallen on Haven, the glowing, imponent star the planet orbited now busy lightning somewhere else, the other corner of the world. The forests could now barely be seen as the lush grass on the ground. The birds and other daylight animals were no longer seen, resting on their nests and habitat while all that could be heard was the sad song of the Haven Owlbat, a hybrid of the animals of the respective species, whose pluming, curiously, was either brown and black or, the more exotic case, red and blue. Lights, however, cyan blue lights, could be seen in the distance. Such lights were not natural. Those belonged to Pylons, crystals above the towering, pyramid-like Nexus, and other Protoss structures from the settlement the Daelaam established, despite Jim Raynor's assurance the colony of Haven was safe from the infestation that riddled the refugee colonists before.

The humming sound of roaring rocket engines increased high as the Dropship landed by the clearing at allowed some sight of the Protoss outpost. The Dropship that had it's flares on, though it could hardly be seen due to it's black color. The cargo bay, lightened by fluorescent lightning, had opened as the people inside boarded out. The engines diminished their humming as the rocket fire died off. Matt Horner could feel the feet transition from hard metal to soft grass as his boots touched the ground of the planet. He looked afar, to the glowing crystals of the alien structures before his eyes, with White, Carradine and two other Marines on his right, left and behind him, respectively. Horner sighed at the problem he'd have to go through ahead. He then put his right hand on his right ear to access the intercom he put in.

"Keep ears and eyes open, for when I call you.", Horner said. "Might end up in trouble, all this."

"Roger.", the Dropship pilot answered. "Keep the engine warm, sir?"

"Your call.", Horner answered, lowering his right hand, turning the intercom off. He then looked at White and Carradine, besides him.

"Let's go.", Horner ordered, a bit anxious at the meeting ahead.

Afar, in another location, by the woods, another Dropship had landed. One like the Raiders, although the people inside were not members of Raynor's group.

These people wore red-clad suits.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And we're done, here, thank God, this one's on schedule. Yes, people will complain I'm leaving the actual scene for the next chapter, but let's let Horner and the others get to there first, okay? xD

Also, I think I particularly enjoyed the scenes between Izsha and Za'gara, as well as the discussion between Za'gara and Kerrigan. It's about time we put up new blood on the block. The Warfield scene, IMO, deserved some more love, but there was just too little to think of. I'm more of a bit concerned on how I now get to the fight with the Terrans, since now the Zerg issues on Char are, virtually, solved.

Now, concerning Lasarra, yes, I'm aware I'm just pushing it a little too much, making it perhaps a little _V for Vendetta_ on it (Movie, not comics, mind you), because of torture and stuff. Well, I'll see if I can narrow things to the next episode, where, then, we can see Lasarra having her first lessons in combat. Bitch of it, is, it's a warrior's thing, especially trying to bear pain, accepting death and stuff.

Now, New Canaan and Nova, where I can talk something of. I've downloaded the '_Why We Fight_' story, on the _Frontline_ comic, basically to do research and other things concerning the place. Problem was that the material was few for study, other than the facts there are anti-Dominion riots and it's on a tourist world, things I hopefully put right on this chapter. But the lack of useful references, as you'll notice, had made me change the aspect of the city environment to something different. This New Canaan I wrote is more visually inspired on the _Bulletstorm_ game, that, IMO, caught more the tourist futuristic world than any other game. Those who play the game (**Highly NSFW, I warn you, non-players.**) will understand the why.

Now, what I didn't like about that story was the fact how Protoss Zealots were trained, because it covered just too freaking little. The only damn thing they ever covered as the Zealot's pre-cog ability to predict when someone will strike them and how. There's nothing about martial discipline, pain tolerance, fighting techniques, nothing! Not to mention Khastiana, the lead Protoss character, was a bit void, unlike Lasarra, whom tried to make her choice and is bearing the said 'consequences', the only part being worth is when she becomes an Immortal. That's why I decided to write how Zealots are trained in my way, even though it's against Blizzard's lore. It's simply too void, how it was shown.

Well, until next chapter, where I'll try to make amends and stuff. I think, after the Char arc, I maybe have a little break, as Kane suggested, maybe not. I'm a masochist.


	17. Chapter XV - Slate Wiped Clean

_**WARNING (PLEASE, READ THIS FIRST BEFORE CONTINUING):**_

_There'll be scenes ahead, those related to the Daelaam Ark, who'll be considered too strong, too violent and too abusive, for some readers. In this case, reader discretion is highly recommended. If you do not wish or cannot bear to read such parts, you're free to ignore them or flame myself in the reviews. If necessary, and/or if administration requires it, I'll change the rating to M._

_I'm saying this because what I did was entirely wrong and excessively strong, even for realistic standards. I came to realize that now. But I also put myself to a point where I either suffer the blow for what I did, or cancel this Fic at all. Also, knowing more losses in followers and reputation would follow, I decided to put it all here, rather than split for the next chapters. Better one hit too strong than many others that are less stronger, but still hurt._

_I screwed up badly, and I know I deserve it. You can flame me for it. If you want an explanation, you can read it at the Final Comments section._

_You've been warned._

* * *

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XV - SLATE WIPED CLEAN**

* * *

**PROTOSS OUTPOST, HAVEN**  
**NIGHT TIME**

The tall vision of Protoss warriors guarding the entrance, as well as the large orbiting spheres of the Photon Cannons, were pretty much enough to intimidate those few men standing before them, including the Captain of the _Hyperion_, Matt Horner. Zealot warriors standing tall and proud, with their Psi-Blades always at ready, accompanied by a nearby Stalker and his large combat suit, had caught the vision of the small Terran force before the entrance to their outpost, four Terran Marines and an unarmed, nimble male. They deadlocked fiercely at the group, pretty much like the Raider Marines did, tightening their grip on the rifles, ready to react if something went wrong. The trip downside, to the clearing housing the Protoss settlement, was quite calm, other than the fact that, at every step the Raiders took closer to the settlement, the more intimidated they felt, as the lights grew stronger. Not to mention the fact there could always be a Dark Templar ready to kill any of them at a glance, without being seen, always sent a shiver up their spine.

Horner could see the look on the aliens' faces. They were visibly angry, resentful of the group, even if they did not wear the colors of the Terran Dominion, Kel-Morian Combine or any other major Terran faction in the Sector. No doubt they didn't forgive the episode with the Purifier, and it was clear, without a shred of doubt, they wouldn't anytime soon. He swallowed his confidence dry. He always tried to remind what Raynor always taught him concerning Protoss. He used to say '_Always watch it with those people, Matt, they sound all noble and shining, knight-stuff, but they always play hardball. And don't let down, they have no noses, but they can smell your fear much farther than a dog ever would._'. They always looked imposing and willing to die, even if they had absolute chance against Horner's small, diplomatic group. It was in their nature. They were always trained, indoctrinated to die in combat. After all, the word 'Zealot' was synonymous to fanatic. Fanatic for death. Either of himself or all those around him.

"I don't like this...", White mumbled, staring back into those Zealots. "They've got homicidal look on their eyes. I told you this was a bad idea, Cap!"

"_What the hell are we supposed to do_!?", Horner asked back, glaring at White. "Just leave them here and risk those people getting incinerated?"

"Come on, Horner, clearly the bozos won't wanna talk.", Carradine commented. "If you don't wanna run, let's at least bring up some Sieges and drop the hammer on them."

"That's not an option, Carradine!", Horner censored. "I won't risk our relations to the Protoss any further."

"Wake up, man, the relations are already scratched up!", Carradine said. "Ol' Raynor blew up their whack-a-town machine, remember?"

"We had a reason, a right one! That was different!", Horner argued back. "You're talking about striking deliberately at them, here! It'll be all they'll want to send out their fleet to burn the planet, like they did in the First War, Antiga and Mar Sara. They still haven't, so talking to them is still worth a try."

"Well, they haven't sent the fleet, but they're sure _itching_, sir.", White commented. "And they'll either kill you or take you prisoner to bargain something."

"If they do that, White, they know the_ Hyperion_ will attack full force, they can't be that stupid.", Horner said.

"Well, stupid's been being the order of things, lately...", White said, letting out a sigh then. Horner also let out his.

"I'm doing it.", Horner said, waving his right hand to the Marines to wait as he stepped forward alone. "Wait a second."

Horner, with as much care as he can muster, looked at the warriors and waved at them, trying to call their attention.

"HEY!", Horner shouted. "HERE!"

"What do you want, Terran!?", the Zealot shouted back, sounding angrily. "Why are you here!?"

"We'd like to talk to your leader!", Horner answered.

"And why would we allow it!?", the Zealot guard roared.

"We're not here to do harm, we just want to talk!", Horner readily answered. "We're Raiders, we're your allies!"

"You have attacked us before!", another Zealot roared back. "Here, on this very world! Why should we trust you!?"

"We don't want to do any harm!", Horner answered. "Please, just let us talk to your leader! It's all we ask!"

Silence then proceeded for a few seconds, as Protoss and Terrans stared one another. Horner felt anxiety grow into him as the Marines kept on a higher sense of alert, preparing for the Protoss to let out the first hit.

"Enter then, Terrans!", the Zealot guard finally replied. "But I warn you, there had better be no treachery!"

"No treachery, no tricks, that's a promise!", Horner said, gesturing for the Marines to follow, as they started to walk slowly to the entrance. Horner kept his hands in mid-air, where the Protoss could clearly see them. "We just want to talk, me and your leader, that's all!"

Horner and his guard carefully approached the guarded entrance to the settlement, where he stopped when he got close to the Zealot guards. The Zealots only stared at them with an untrustworthy look.

"Follow me slowly, and hold when I tell you so, when I call Preator Naal.", the Zealot instructed, dryly. "Keep your distance from him. If you attempt-"

"We won't-", Horner readily said.

"**IF** you attempt something...", the Zealot interrupted, raising his tone in menace. "You will dearly regret it. You and this pathetic colony you so adore in defending! Now, accompany me."

* * *

"Actual, this is Snooper Alpha.", a male voice, down by the ground, quietly whispered by the radio as his optical lens, set to 'night vision' mode, looked at the alien encampment before him. His hands tightly held grip of the C-20A he carried. His heart was beating steadily calm, his blood pressure under control. So were his two partners, also down by the ground. "Confirming Captain Horner's presence in encampment. He's inside."

"Good, Snooper Alpha.", said a calm male voice from the earpiece Snooper was wearing. "Keep me updated on changes or if something happens. Now, what of enemy composition? How many and what they are?"

"Stand by, checking now.", Snooper Alpha said, as he started to look around and check the targets around him. "Actual, identifying minimal Protoss presence in encampment. Approximately sixteen Zealot melee troops, three battle suits, Stalker class, five automated attack units, Sentry class. Identifying low level threat, Protoss Probes, number unknown. Perimeter defenses, four Photon Cannons. Confirm, over."

"Confirmed, Snooper Alpha.", Actual responded. "Any other Protoss structures?"

"Affirmative, Actual.", Snooper Alpha answered. "Counting one primary structure, Nexus, and multiple secondaries. Counting one, two, three, four, five, six... Six Protoss Pylons. Counting two Protoss Gateway structures, not active. Counting one Forge, not active. Confirm information recieved, over."

"Confirmed, Snooper Alpha.", Actual said. "Good work. Keep an eye on the meeting, warn if something happens. Team Alpha will be standing by."

"Roger that, Actual, will remain on alert.", Snooper Alpha said.

* * *

The Zealot turned around and started to walk as Horner and the Marines followed him. The staring, however, had not ceased, as even the Photon Cannons kept watch over all of them. Photon Cannons were large circular platforms that kept automated spheres afloat, like an anti-gravity generator of sorts, even as they unleashed their encapsulated anti-matter energy sphere, that could disintegrate a soldier the instant the unleashed energy touched his body and cross through him. It was rather ironic, at times, that a race so enticed with the glory of personal combat would utilize such a defensive means, yet they did. The Zerg attacks against their people, however, so much as Terran incursions have raised the need for defenses of such sort. Unfortunately, as much powerful as the Photon Cannon sounded, it was also the most fragile, not having a stronger shielding or structure plating. There was also the issue of it's dependency on psi-matrix, pretty much like every other Protoss structure but the Nexus, that explained the presence of Pylons, floating large Khaydarin Crystals kept afloat by large rings that provided energy, close to the entrance and across the outpost, powering other structures.

While Terran energy supplies were majorly done through a variety of methods, from hydroelectric dams to fusion generators and even nuclear power plants, Protoss majorly depended on psionics more than any other race known. This was explained by the connection between Pylons, Nexii and other structures. The large Nexus, the anchor of every Protoss colony, contained the link to the great psionic energy matrix, while the pylons were transmitters that tapped into the energy to distribute it to the structures close by, in a short ranged energy aura. The Nexus, containing a Khaydarin Crystal of it's own to access the psi-matrix, could sustain by itself while structures could not. This was a critical weakness, in military terms, however, often used as a tactic amongst Terrans and Zerg, whom would first destroy the Pylons before anything else, as the structures would power down and become harmless and inert.

As they walked across the settlement to the enormous pyramid-shaped Nexus, Carradine, White and the other Marines could see the overall presence amongst the buildings, all standing and staring at them. They were mostly Protoss Zealots, with two or three Stalkers including the one by the entrance. Three Sentries were present, as well as they were also locking their optical lens on the five Terrans whom entered the place they were programmed to protect. In fact, the only ones so far that were not staring at the visitors were the shell-shaped Probes, whom were occupied with their work. The air of hostility reeked high in the air, as they all stared at Horner's group with bitter eyes. Looking around at the structures, he could count a Forge, a shell-shaped structure that was utilized by the Protoss to reinforce weapons and armor, as well as a couple of Gateways, large towering arcs with a floating crystal, standing by a large base, that were used to teleport warriors from Shakuras to that location through the psi-matrix itself. However, White also noticed Carradine staring at a trio of Protoss with a look of defiance and called his attention.

"_What_?", Carradine asked, bothered, looking at White.

"Quit the staring, Carradine, that's the same as calling up a fight!", White ordered, quiet, yet angry.

Horner and his men had then arrived by the massive Nexus, by which the Zealot stopped his march. Horner and his group followed.

"Wait here.", the Zealot added, coldly, as he walked forward alone, circling the Nexus to the right as he approached one of the Zealots whom had his back turned to the encampment, watching something that could be where the Probes were working at. As the group looked around, they noticed Zealots closing on them slowly, staring at them. Surrounding them as they approached in a rather uncomfortable range.

"They're pissed...", Carradine commented, quietly. "And sure as hell it ain't about last night's game..."

"I feel ya.", White replied, looking around at those angry faces. "Now shut it."

"Praetor!", the Zealot shouted, getting the attention of Horner and the Marines.

"What is it, Navras?", the Zealot with his back on everyone, Naal, Horner presumed, had answered.

"Terrans.", the Zealot guard answered. "They are demanding an audience."

"_Demanding!?_", Naal asked back, angry.

"No, you got it wrong, we're not demanding we're just-", Horner said, nervous, trying to rectify it.

"**SILENCE!**", Navras roared, in abject fury. Horner immediately remained silent, as the Zealot Praetor, Naal, simply looked from his left shoulder, but did not turn.

"So...", Naal started, comtemplative, yet with a shred of bitter arrogance within. "'Tis not the Terran _concubine_ whom comes this time to plead for leniency, but those whom stood against our holy cause, when we arrived here before."

Naal then turned around to face Horner and his small guard, surrounded by those Zealots that Naal could trust and believe. The Praetor wore about the same armor and few garments the Zealots wore, the colors and symbol denoting his allegiance to his tribe, the Auriga Tribe. One thing that differed him from the other Zealots, however, two things actually, were both the tiara-like headwear he wore on his head, as well as the abnormally long scar on his left eye, acquired when a Hydralisk tried to eliminate him during one of the numerous clashes in the Brood War. He could barely open his left eye because of the scar, in itself. Though many considered such to be the mark of a great warrior, an honor amongst the Protoss, it had altered Naal's personality a bit, making him a bitter, often rude, person to be ever around at times.

"You have so much courage to arrive to this outpost, to come before me, after all you have done...", Naal commented, bitterly, as he slowly walked towards Horner. "I can presume why you have come, Terran. She, no doubt, has _informed_ you of our intentions. The question therefore is why should I listen to your pleads, when you can no longer be _trusted_?"

"Why we can't be trusted anymore?", Horner asked. "After all we have done for you, years ago, you should know we are the Terrans that you can rely for help, unlike the others."

"'Tis not what your recent actions have said so, _cohort of Raynor._", Naal said, bitterly. "Do you believe the Daelaam are blind to matters that are not our own? Do you believe we would not know of your wanton aggression against sacred tombs, even though they were guarded by Tal'Darim scum? Do you believe our people would not know of your venture to Char, nor know the Queen of Blades has fallen by _your very hand_s?"

Horner widened his eyes and swallowed his pride dry in shock. They knew.

"Your Terran chieftain was supposed to deliver her for trial!", Naal said, angrily. "She was supposed to pay for her crimes, all she has done against our people! Justice through blood, 'tis the only way! So why was she not surrendered for justice? Why was she not delivered before the justice of the great Hierarchy? _Answer at once_, small creature!"

"_We don't have her!_", Horner exclaimed in response as he then took a deep breath. "She was taken from us. And Raynor is dead."

Naal simply stared at Horner briefly and then at one of the Zealots surrounding the group. That Zealot stared at his Praetor for a short time before he nodded his head.

"Then if he has fallen...", Naal started, looking back at Horner. "His word is worth, no longer. Neither of those whom stood with him. Your presence, thus, is unnecessary and _unwelcome!_"

"As it's your little summer camp here, _buddy!_", White replied, angry. "You heard Raynor and you heard Hanson, too, the cure is working-"

"Damn you, White, _shut it!_", Horner said, nervous, looking at the Sergeant.

"_It's the damn truth, Cap, and you know it!_", White answered back at Horner to then face Naal again. "You folks didn't have to set shop here, too!"

"We have our duty, insolent Terran!", Naal exclaimed. "And you are interfering with our duty with your presence, as you did before!"

"_Duty?_", Carradine asked, ironically. "That's how you call _burning _and_ butchering _unarmed people!?"

"Carradine!", Horner censored.

* * *

"Snooper Alpha, this is Actual.", Actual called, from the earpiece again. "Report."

"The meeting is pretty tense down there, Actual.", Snooper Alpha, said, looking at Horner's group, pretty surrounded, apparently. "Horner and his men are discussing out loud with the Protoss, it doesn't seem it's getting well. Sir, they're also surrounded. Multiple hostiles, Zealots, in apparently a striking range."

"Snooper, this is important, are their Psi Blades active?", Actual answered, sounding tense.

"Negative, sir.", Snooper Alpha said. "But I'm not sure it'll remain that way."

"Mark positions for team Alpha, give priority for those Photon Cannons.", Actual said. "I want everyone to be ready in case something happens. Keep me posted."

"Affirmative, sir.", Snooper Alpha said, as he then looked right to one of his colleagues. "Deetz, mark up targets for Team Alpha, give priority for Photon Cannons."

"On it, boss.", Snooper's colleague, 'Deetz', complied as he started looking around the encampment.

* * *

"You Terrans should never have _meddled_ into this, nor stood in our way!", Naal said. "Selendis was a fool to offer the duty of a Protoss for a Terran to perform, we recognize that! But we were also fools to believe James Raynor would make a_ logical_ choice, not fall into the charms of another concubine, whom may not share the infestation of the Queen of Blades, but does share the _venom_ her words bear!"

"Logical choice? _Venom!?_", Horner said, appalled and insulted. "Doctor Hanson never lied or even backstabbed you, for Earth's sake!"

"She had _charmed_ the Terran we could trust upon with vain promises of remedy against the defiling touch of Zerg infestation.", Naal answered back, arrogantly. "Like the Queen of Blades, she had him ignore those whom know the truth!"

"What truth? _Your truth!?_", Horner exclaimed, losing his patience. "That you have to burn people infected, all and every time? Even when the cure against the infestation clearly works!?"

"There is no _cure_, Terran.", Naal said, bitterly. "You treat infestation like a disease you can remedy, but it is not. It is pure_ heresy_, a touch of blasphemy that stains the infected to his soul! By the moment he is infected, he is already lost, his corpse being mingled with like a puppet as his soul can never rest. You, small creatures, believe your 'cure' can remedy something this _blasphemous_. It can not! Even if it is successful and restores the person's body to it's pristine state, the soul can never be restored. And something clearly Zerg will not behave like a disease you can treat. It will evolve until your cure is ineffective. And even if you can advance forward and remain ahead of the 'disease', it will not stop. It shall never cease until your 'cure' is nothing more but _decorative liquid_. Until infestation gains the definitive upper hand. _Fire_ is the only cure, Terran! It is the only _thing_ that can truly remedy those touched by the Swarm! It is the_ only_ thing that cleanses the body and purifies the soul of such heresy!"

"With respect then, Preator, that's where you're wrong.", Horner said. "There is a chance of saving those people other than incinerating them, or slashing through them, or ripping them apart, but what matters is that we're willing to give a try."

"Then you, Terrans, are greater fools than we have took you for.", Naal said. "How did you ever manage to survive this long in this universe is _beyond me._"

"Please, Preator, _don't force my hand._", Horner pleaded. "I swear, if you do it, we'll make you _regret_ it. We could've just striked you down, but I chose to meet and try to talk to you. But you'll either leave this people alone, and you'll get out unharmed, or we'll make you leave, and you'll be hurt badly."

"If you even decide to attack us, Terran, it is _you_ who will regret!", Naal threatened back. "You and this pathetic colony will regret they had preferred to co-exist with impurity itself!"

"_And all we did for you is worth nothing?_", Horner asked back. "The evacuation of Aiur, our aid in taking down the Overmind?"

"We recognize that and even appreciate.", Naal said, coldly. "But we expected you to do better. You should, as of now, be listening to _reason_ and serving justice. Fighting alongside those whom truly serve justice, beyond any call or reasoning. You have made your offer, and now I make you mine. Join our cause, and aid us in cutting out the root of disease gripping your nimble civilians, or stand against us and face the consequences."

"_You're really sure you want to do this?_", Horner asked, after a moment, staring at Naal and expecting the worst. "You really want to sacrifice your men, even when you have the choice to leave?"

Then, a loud energy burst sound was heard as an energy blade erupted from Naal's left wrist. Hearts from both Horner and the Marines began to beat in a frantic rhythm as their eyes widened. Horner tried to contain himself, not showing any sign of fear, at all. But it was hard when an alien taller you activated his wrist lightsaber, with killing looks.

* * *

_Seconds before..._

"Deetz, you got the targets marked?", Snooper Alpha asked.

"All marked now.", Deetz answered.

"Actual, Snooper Alpha.", Snooper said, contacting the radio. "All targets painted, repeat, all painted, confirm, over."

"Understood, Snooper, Alpha will synchronize with your frequency.", Actual answered. "And the meeting?"

"No changes- **SHIT!**", Snooper Alpha started, when he suddenly saw a flash of energy erupt from the wrist of one of the Zealots, apparently the one Horner was talking too.

"What?", Actual quickly asked.

"One of them activated a Psi-Blade, he's closing!", Snooper answered, his reflexes heating up his cold stature from before. "_Sir, he's gonna kill Horner!_"

"Stop him! NOW! OPEN FIRE!** OPEN FIRE!**", Actual readily said, alert and urging.

"Copy!", Snooper quickly complied. "Open fire, now!"

* * *

"And you, Terran?", Naal threatened. "Are you really willing to test my will? Mine and that of the-"

Suddenly, a flash of energy erupted from behind Naal, whom suddenly stopped, alert. He quickly turned around to see something hit his personal plasma shield again and then a third round had hit his head, making him fall dead to the ground.

"What the-", Horner shouted, surprised.

"_Preator!_", a Zealot roared, alarmed, as he saw his superior down and not moving.

"SHIT!", White shouted, at the same time everyone else roared their lines.

"**SON OF A BITCH!**", Carradine shouted too.

"**TREACHERY!**", another Zealot roared close by, at the same time. "**ELIMINATE THEM!**"

It was chaos, then. Zealots activated their Psi-Blades as White, Carradine and the other two Marines hit the closest Zealots, making some of them fall into the ground. Horner readily ducked to the ground.

"_Captain!_", White shouted, as he dodged a Psi Blade coming for him and pushed the Zealot, making him fall. "_Come on!_"

**BOOM!**

The sudden explosion of 180mm the super-heated tungsten shell had hit the ground with such a violence that let out a loud noise, a shockwave that hit those close by and a small mushroom of fire thereafter. The same happened with the subsequent explosions, whom hit the ground and the shields of some structures, particularly the Forge and some Photon Cannons. Small balls of fire, though harmless, flew at times too, off those mushrooms. One of those explosions, in particular, had hit a trio of Zealots, that made them fly upwards, despite the fact their plasma shields kept them alive and whole. Physics were generally harsh when Siege Tanks were in the play, as they kept bombarding the encampment from somewhere.

The Photon Cannons had begun to spin and target on the closest enemy, that were Horner's group. Two of them exploded, their spheres being pulled out of orbit as the bases lit ablaze before the third charged to fire. A massive ball of energy erupted, and flew with the speed of fired tank shells to the Terrans' direction. It missed, however, hitting the ground with an explosion of it's own, although not as violent as the artillery raining down on the base was. The Cannon waited for a second before it's sphere started charging again. It was interrupted, however, when a shell had it it, exploding the sphere and shattering the platform to pieces. The fourth and final was destroyed shortly after.

"**HORNER, WE GOTTA GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE! NOW!**", White roared loud, picking Horner on his feet as the group started making their move to the exit. A Zealot, however, had caught up to one of the Marines and shoved his Psi-Blade deep into him, impaling him with the energy weapon. A second Psi-Blade impaled the poor trooper, as the Zealot violently slashed in, cutting the trooper in half.

"**KITTRIDGE!**", Carradine roared as he raised his C-14, unleashing a furious volley of fire and bullets at the Zealot whom was now charging at him. Several shots pierced through the alien's shielding before he was shot down, in the abdomen, by another sniper shot. A psionic glow erupted from the body of the Zealot fell down as a mist of flames enveloped him. Shortly after the flames ceased and faded away, the Zealot was nowhere to be seen. He had been teleported back to recover somewhere, to a place of safety. A feature of the power suits the Protoss wore, along with the plasma shielding that made them more deadlier than it firstly might appear.

"**HURRY, LET'S GO!**", White barked, as he and Horner ran to the exit, between the artillery explosions that were happening everywhere. Carradine followed as the Marine close by him was hit by a nearby energy shot and fell into the ground. The particle disruptors of the Stalker had hit the lady in the leg, making her fall into the ground, roaring in pain.

"_Bruener!_", Carradine shouted, falling back to pick her up. He tried picking her up when he heard a powering sound to his front. He looked to see the Stalker was charging to fire again.

"_Worthless Terran..._", the Stalker's head psionically said in preparation to fire, when an explosion let out right on top of the Stalker, making him fly. At least, what remained of him, as the largest piece that could be found was the torso without three of it's legs and burned out. Carradine fell with the shockwave of the explosion, but quickly went to pick Bruener up.

"**CARRADINE!**", White roared, as he looked back by the entrance seeing two Marines, one carrying another, slowly to the exit. "**HURRY!**"

Carradine tried to move as faster as he could, but the weight of her CMC-300 suit had prevented him from running at a considerable pace. He noticed a Zealot was quickly closing to him and her, Psi-Blades ready to strike, when an explosion hit close by, making Carradine and Bruener fall as the Zealot was thrown aside. Shortly, a furious roar of C-14 fire had put the Zealot down as White closed in on the couple.

"Come on, get up!", White ordered. "We gotta get out _now_!"

"_Help me out!_", Carradine said, as both went to pick Bruener up and start running outside. They met up with Horner, whom was down by the ground as they started backtracking to the Dropship.

* * *

"Actual, this is Snooper Alpha!", Snooper shouted. "They're out, they're getting back to the ship!"

"Roger, Snooper Alpha, good work.", Actual answered. "Head to point Charlie now, I'm sending transport to extraction."

"Yes, sir, heading out, now!", Snooper Alpha complied, as he called his. "Double time out of here, people, get to Charlie now!"

Afar, in a nearby clearing, a small force had set up, keeping watch at the direction the four Siege Tanks were firing. They all shared the same red color, so much the painting on the Tanks as the CMC-300 suits. One, in particular, had his hand on the communicator as it transmitted something.

"Cease fire, **CEASE FIRE!**", the Marine roared, as the tanks didn't fire anymore. "That's it, people, we're done! Let's get out of here, quick!"

And so, the Marines picked up their rifles as they waited for the Siege Tanks to lower the center of the base, raise the support pedals that kept them from recoiling, retract the track legs from the X-pattern deployment as well as the turret had lowered it's cannon barrel. The siege tanks then began to mobilize to the intended waypoint. So did those Marines, whom shared the red color. Smoke gathered up in the horizon as blue lights moved and burned like flames usually did.

Both shared the red color so much as they did the Dominion Shield.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

The fleshy corridors of the Leviathan were somehow enough to diminsh the hard, slow steps of a dumbstruck female figure that wandered, that wanted to be somewhere else but close to Izsha. So much should have happened those few minutes for her to assimilate. The worst was the fact Izsha _wanted_ her head, the moment she fell.

For Sarah Kerrigan, that should've come _hardly_ as a surprise, given she could see she infested her in the first place, because of the Terran-ish facial features, and then turned her life, apparently, in a living hell. It was another whom she had affected from her times as the Queen of Blades. But the strength of the revelation, when it came from the supposed mouth of Za'gara, was shocking. It seemed like she was _willing_ to kill her, regardless of what or whom she was.

The worst was Za'gara herself was no _innocent_ either. She and the other Brood Mothers had mocked Izsha, as she told. This put the 'halfling' in motion to begin her campaign and 'recruit' the Puppet Queen in the process. She so wanted to hit her as of then, Izsha even _provoked_ her to. Sometimes, she thought on what Za'gara suggested, to kill Izsha and take the reigns herself. She was only fortunate that she needed Izsha. She couldn't trust Za'gara with that power, as it was clear that she was a General indoctrinated with a twisted patriotic sense of sorts, that her Swarm was invincible and such. Not to mention that Za'gara could easily turn on her, but so could Izsha. But at least the half-Terran, half-Zerg snake woman seemed to make more sense in her thoughts, and also had her plans, thus she was not as reliable, but surely more than Za'gara.

Kerrigan only let out a deep sigh, thinking she should have known there'd be days like these. For all she knew she could now easily step inside the Evolution Pit and find her old instructor Rumm, infested and having a cup of coffee on one of his claws or tentacles, taking a sip.

Fortunately, this didn't happen when the fleshy doors opened, revealing Abathur alone in the center of the chamber, working on his spider web of sorts. One of the two things, actually three, he used to do when he wasn't tending to eggs or infesting people. There were a couple of Zerglings passing by, as well as a Roach standing guard in the deep back when Kerrigan entered, but, other than that, the chamber was practically empty. Empty in the meaning of living presence, as the eggs remained there, dormant in the walls and floor.

"My Queen.", Abathur greeted, as he was occupied. "I presume you have arrived to speak with the Terran Richter. He is recovered and available for conservation, if you so desire."

"No, not that.", Kerrigan said, deadpanned, yet bitter. "Not yet, at any rate, I'm not in the mood for this, now."

"I can sense and read elevated blood pressure.", Abathur said, in his typical monotone voice. "I presume a severe discussion has erupted between you and Izsha, in motive of your sparing of Brood Mother Za'gara."

"_Tell me about it._", Kerrigan sarcastically pointed, as she stared at Abathur with an angry face. "But don't forget that was _your fault_, too. I'd just have killed her if you didn't need her for whatever it is you wanna do."

"You could have done so, my Queen, although the consequences would not be beneficial.", Abathur replied. "With Za'gara now present, however, we can search the other Brood Mothers, as I can recover the genetic strands in her possession."

"_Recover?_", Kerrigan asked. "I thought you had everything here."

"The Xel'Naga artifact has fractured the primary pools of knowledge stored in Char.", Abathur explained. "We only have access to critical strains, that are Larvae, Drones, Overlords and Zerglings, as well as advanced strains like Roaches, Hydralisks, Vipers, Ultralisks and Mutalisks."

"As far as I can remember, I've seen other strains around here.", Kerrigan said.

"Those are captured Zerg, not hatched, my Queen.", Abathur said. "Their genetic strands also lack several critical genetic combinations necessary for reproduction. Hence, the necessity for living Brood Mothers."

"And that explains why you asked me to spare Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, predicting the conclusion. "What do you hope to gain from her, exactly?"

"This, my Queen, is unfortunately unknown.", Abathur answered. "She may contain new strands as she may contain the same we currently possess."

"_You're kidding, right?_", Kerrigan asked, growing stressful. "You're telling me I let her live, and I might get nothing or something not worth from her in return?"

"I fear so, my Queen.", Abathur answered.

"And still you wanted her?", Kerrigan asked. "Why?"

"She is necessary, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "As I informed previously, she can aid us in locating the other Brood Mothers."

"Yeah, she'll be our tracker, I know.", Kerrigan readily said, dismissively. "What I'm asking is what she'll be other than that?"

"She can greatly assist us, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "She can assist you, at your side, as you fight the Terrans."

"_Over my dead body!_", Kerrigan warned as she closed him. "I'd rather put myself a bullseye and parade at Warfield's front door to ever giving that hag an army."

"You speak this still fearing a probability of treason, by Za'gara's part.", Abathur said. "A fear irrational."

"Irrational. My. Behind!", Kerrigan grinded with her teeth, trying to control herself. "She nearly _killed_ me down there! And quit your crap that I can trust her now, because I _can't_!"

"Za'gara has submitted.", Abathur said. "This makes her bound to your will."

"But that doesn't mean I'll trust her _now_.", Kerrigan said back. "Trust is a thing you gain _over time_, not in an instant. Especially with Terrans!"

"Za'gara is Zerg, my Queen. She is not Terran.", Abathur said. "She will not turn against you. This, I am absolutely certain."

"Really?", Kerrigan asked, sarcastically. "_How?_"

"Biological, psionic and psychological programming, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "Za'gara was conceived with a concept of autonomy, yet, such programming prevents her from attempting to overthrow those she is supposed to serve. Apart from higher intelligence and combat capacity, she is bound to you by strength of will. A bind that can only be broken with your elimination, and yet, she cannot do so on her own. This must come from an outside, foreign force."

"So, until someone else kills me, she'll serve me, because she can't backstab.", Kerrigan concluded. "That sounds interesting, but did you ever consider there might be a _flaw_ somewhere?"

"Zerg specimens do not display signals of flawship, my Queen.", Abathur answered. "All and everything in the Swarm is flawless."

"You're now sounding like Za'gara, you know, speaking like that.", Kerrigan said, her hands on both sides of her waist. "I know better, Abathur. There's always a flaw, a weakness, that people will love to explore the moment they see it."

"Such concept is biased by lack of knowledge of Zerg strains and fighting capacity.", Abathur said.

"I don't need to know, Abathur.", Kerrigan said, staring at him. "In my years on the Ghost Program, I always learned, from experience, there's _always_ a flaw. In a plan, in an enemy, whatever, but what matters is that it's there, waiting to be messed with. Like it is with Za'gara."

"What is with me, my Queen?", asked a voice behind Kerrigan. She turned behind to see Za'gara had entered within. "Is it something I need to be aware of?"

"It's nothing.", Kerrigan said, bitterly. "And it's _none of your damn business_. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were busy finding somewhere to make a roost, or whatever you name the _hellhole_ you like to settle in."

"And I have, my Queen.", Za'gara complied, as she stepped inside and the flesh door closed behind her. "But, as I remember, the creature Abathur required me, as he requested you to spare my life. Something I shall be ever grateful to you, my-"

"Don't bother trying to kiss my ass either, Za'gara, you're not getting _anything_ with that stunt.", Kerrigan interrupted, angry.

"'Kiss your ass', my Queen?", Za'gara asked, dumbfounded. "That is how you Terrans call being grateful for one sparing another's life?"

"That's how we call saying things else than those we need to know.", Kerrigan said. "Like what you're doing now. Being too much grateful, saying I'm beautiful, I'm powerful, I'm wise, crap like that. And I don't like that, you're not earning _anything_ from me by doing that. _Got that?_"

Za'gara bowed. "As you desire, my Queen.", she said. "I shall then 'kiss your ass', no longer."

"If you permit, then, my Queen, I shall start by examining her genetic strand availability.", Abathur said, slithering forward to Za'gara.

"Whatever...", Kerrigan said, as she stepped aside.

"I am only in doubt, my Queen...", Za'gara started, as Abathur then started moving his limbs, striking her as he collected something from her, so much in body as in ornamental limbs and the orbs in the back of her lower body. "I am in doubt as when can I serve. To attempt and prove my worth to you."

"Depending on me, Za'gara, I'd say not a chance in a _hundred_ years.", Kerrigan said, bitter. "I'll tell when you can be useful or not, that's _my_ decision."

"I understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said, resigned. "And yet, if I cannot serve... How will I be able to serve, my Queen? How will I be able to make worth your decision to spare me?"

"I don't know, and, frankly, I don't_ care_.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "So far, I think the only reason I'm willing to let you live is to piss Izsha off."

"_Oh, so that solves the mystery?_", another female voice, an ironic one, was heard as Izsha appeared from a corner, sliding herself down as her 'lower body' touched the ground, running along the wall to the hole where she came from. She also let out a sigh. "Pity. I guess I'll have to cancel that appointment to Baker Street, then..."

Kerrigan simply rolled her eyes as she looked at Izsha and then at Abathur and Za'gara, remaining silent.

"What? Not a word?", Izsha asked, disdainfully. "Oh, now it'll be like this, Kerrigan? You'll be there, all mute, until I apologize?"

"I'm not that easy.", Kerrigan answered, all bitter.

"Well, how quaint, _me neither._", Izsha said, defiantly. "And as far as I'm concerned, you owe me an apology too."

"_I owe you an apology?_", Kerrigan asked, angry.

"Yeah, little girl, you owe me, and _big time_, I might add!", Izsha exclaimed, getting angry. "I still can't believe you actually brought an unreliable, backstabbing, treasonous Brood Mother on my ship!"

"And I still can't believe you were planning on killing me, Izsha!", Kerrigan handed back, facing her. "How the hell didn't I see it when I was the Queen of Blades is beyond me! But now... I'd say we've done our fair share today, didn't we?"

"Oh, please, _your majesty_, I believed I missed my point.", mocked Izsha, with great sarcasm. "I just think it's highly unlikely Za'gara will so willingly follow you, at least in the state you currently are."

"Well, you said it yourself, Izsha, before we landed, that I had to get the Swarm back into the fold.", Kerrigan shed a light. "You didn't mention how exactly to do it. And I doubt Za'gara is willing to face the Zerg aboard, or even my power, if it comes to that. Not after today."

Izsha spat dryly, in mockery. "_Perhaps..._", she added, sarcastically. "But even so, now I'll have to keep an eye on her. And, please, do note it was _you_ who started all this."

"I know everything, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, staring at Izsha. "I know of the meeting."

"What?", Izsha asked, surprised and initially dumbfounded. It took a few seconds, as she was lost at words until she looked at Za'gara, as the Brood Mother was looking at her. Then, it was a matter of doing the math.

"_You sniveling, mouth-running little piece of-_", Izsha started, increasingly angry.

"Yeah, she's all that, and you know what?", Kerrigan interrupted, angry. "I'm actually glad she did it! Now, try and say to my face it's not for that reason."

"That's funny, since when we've been under new management and I'm not aware of?", Izsha asked, angry. "As far as I remember, _I'm the boss here_!"

"_Don't try to change the matter, Izsha!_", Kerrigan readily answered back. "Please, just don't. Just look at me. Just look at me and tell me it's not all about the mockery they did on you. Please, tell me it's not about the payback for it."

Izsha got livid, but she then scoffed as she smirked in irony.

"You say so much of me, but what of you, Kerrigan!?", Izsha asked. "The moment I offered you the chance to get your own payback, you readily accepted, you didn't _even_ ask any questions."

"That is different, Izsha, and you know it!", Kerrigan said, angry. "I did it for a reason, you're just doing it for something too personal!"

"How funny, like if yours isn't _so personal_...", Izsha said, sarcastically.

"_I lost someone!_", Kerrigan shouted.

"And I lost _something_!", Izsha immediately shouted back, trying to calm down shortly after. "And as far as I'm concerned, that makes us even."

Kerrigan simply stared at Izsha for a long time, as she stared back. Izsha's eyes were tightening as she grinded her black teeth. Kerrigan's expression was a fierce one. Tension was high as even Abathur and Za'gara, in the background, were watching.

"You're gonna do something?", Izsha teased after a brief time, calm in a frightening manner, yet with her eyes tight.

"I don't know, you tell me.", Kerrigan answered back, in about the same tone, though more bitter.

A while passed before the silence was broken again. Kerrigan smoothed her face first.

"So it stays this way, now?", Kerrigan asked, calmly, but not breaking eye contact with her 'employer'. "Everything's now in a slate wiped clean?"

"_If you prefer it..._", Izsha said, disdainfully, frowning. "Unless you want to add something..."

Kerrigan was about to turn around when a light shed up her head. "Yeah.", she said, enlightened. "There's just one little thing left."

Suddenly, Kerrigan unleashed two blows on Izsha, a right and a left hook, respectively. Izsha almost fell down, were not for her attachment, as she realized the pain that surged up her cheek bones after the shock.

"'_Droney Droney'_ and Nydus Worm, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, calming herself down, as she left, to deep within the chamber. "Now, we're even."

It took a short while for Izsha to recover she looked at back figure of the Ghost, her eyes livid. She then looked at Za'gara and Abathur, her eyes tight.

"And meanwhile, you get to see it all, front row center...", Izsha commented, sarcastically. "I bet you loved it."

"_You have little idea..._", Za'gara answered, back, with a tone of satisfaction rarely seen out of a Brood Mother.

Izsha spat down some blood in the ground, clearly angry, but then she smiled and began to snicker, silently, as she backed to the hole where she came from.

* * *

**SOMEWHERE, IN THE DAELAAM ARK...**

She was trembling. Trembling of the cold so much as of the newfound pain that caught to her. She could feel that cold touching the two wounds of the Psi-Blades that her interrogator, Biblos, cut open, sending so much shivers as small bursts of pain, that often came in small waves, according to the random breeze. She was now regretting it. All of it. Her desires for a better life, her wish for not living any longer on the shadow of her 'great' sister. It only took two beatings, two torture sessions for her former enthusiasm to fade away. The first that was given by the one whom offered her that chance on life. The second by he who tortured her.

She could hear the echo of other screams, from the walls outside. Other prisoners being equally tortured by the hands of Shakuras' finest, or worse. She could feel the numb state of her feet, immobile in all senses, due to that footwear trap. Her arms were tired as her body was tiring as well, to the point of almost being hurt, too. She could feel herself weak, on the point of fainting. It had been long since she had not sustained herself, be it through the Khala or sunlight. The last time she had done so was one hour prior to her heading to Evaluator Kalimdor to start her duty with those Sentries. One hour prior to that meeting.

She had always known she was not destined for war, since her birth. Her role was set since her birth by society, in the old traditions of her tribe, the Furinax. Set to be a craftswoman for the sacred Khaydarin Crystals revered and utilized by Protoss of most classes, from the lowest of warrior initiates to members of the Hierarchy itself. In Protoss society, it was actually rare, though accepted, their subjects to change their roles radically, most preferring to remain to what they were suited to be since they were born. Those few rare could all be accepted into the Daelaam, the mighty fighting force of the Protoss of Shakuras. All but one. All but _her_. She was barred by the High Executor herself from entering, time and again. All because she was vying for something else. For something beyond her supposedly safe life. Such desire only raised after the critics and negative hearsay started. It all said of her sister, the Hierarch and their unwillingness to act, even now, with the rumored fall of the Queen of Blades. But it all fell on her, it all hurt her the most.

She desired to be somewhere else, every day the _nerves_ because of such rumors, even amongst said 'friends' and colleagues of her profession, grew more and more. It affected her more than anything else. It came to make her want to leave everything behind, to renegade whom she was, more and more. The chance had come when a scientific expedition was announced, and volunteers to join the scientific crew were joined. That time, she had applied without the consent of her sister, as it was obvious she would interfere again, just as she did time and again with the Daelaam. She had already accepted the idea she could not become a warrior, by then, as many would to wipe the disgrace of their name or those related to them. All she wanted was to be somewhere else but Shakuras. That was when Raseac made the offer.

An offer Lasarra was deeply regretting now, in having accepted. Like a child whom follows a complete stranger when he offers the candy, she did not realize the temptation was a trap to a much worse fate until it was too late to turn back. Now here she was, shackled and wounded, and considering it. She closed her eyes in thought.

Thought of giving up. Of not going that path anymore. If this was how Zealots were trained, it was too much, even for her.

_'Do not give in.'_

The sudden voice, clearly a serene female one, with a tone intended to give hope, had made Lasarra's eyes open in alert. She looked through the chamber to see if anyone was there, when there was no one. And Biblos and N'arkham had not returned yet. She was dumbfounded as was surprised.

"Who is there?", Lasarra said, weakly.

_'I am here.',_ the voice answered, trying to comfort. '_With you._'

"What?", Lasarra asked, fearful. "Show yourself!"

'_I am not in the chamber, dear Lasarra._', the voice said. '_I am with you._'

Lasarra looked down in regret and pain.

"No...", Lasarra whispered, in sorrow. "It is another trick. Please, stop, I have learned. I will say what you want."

'_It is not._', the voice said. '_And, please, do not give in._'

"Why should I listen?", Lasarra asked.

'_Because I understand you, Lasarra._', the voice said. '_I understand your pain._'

Lasarra scoffed, weakly.

"You know nothing of my pain...", Lasarra commented, bitterly.

'_I do._', the voice said. '_I can feel it. I can feel it so much as those whom I can touch._'

"You are not here.", Lasarra said.

'_I do not have to._', the voice answered. '_I can feel your pain, so much outside your mind as within. I can feel how much you desire to be recognized, to be redeemed as someone, not as related to someone._'

"No...", Lasarra said, in agony. "Stop..."

'_I cannot._', the voice said. '_As you cannot as well. You cannot give in._'

"Why?", Lasarra asked. "Why I cannot? It is too much suffering for one to bear."

'_Especially for one such as you, I understand._', the voice said. '_But you cannot give them what they desire._'

"And suffer _more_?", Lasarra asked, reminding the pain of the two Psi-Blade cuts.

'_You will suffer even much more if you give in._', the voice said. '_I assure you that._'

"And what good will come in resisting their torture?", Lasarra asked.

'_It will not last._', the voice answered. '_That is all I assure you. It will not last._'

"Then... _I will die_?", Lasarra asked, in resignation.

'_No._', the voice answered, plainly.

"How can you be certain?", Lasarra asked.

'_You cannot foresee the future._', the voice asked. '_That is all I can say._'

Suddenly, the chamber opened, the light illuminating Lasarra's face as it was then blocked by the large figure of the Zealot whom stepped inside. He was followed by the Dark Templar whom occupied his respective place, but at the opposite corner of where Biblos stood, not behind Lasarra as before.

"Well, female?", the Zealot asked, bitterly. "Have you enjoyed your _reprieve_?"

Lasarra only stared at Biblos, yet said nothing.

"You will not answer?", Biblos asked, walking slowly towards her. "Does this mean you will not tell the truth?"

"Even if I told, you would just torture me again and again.", Lasarra answered, looking down to the ground.

"_You dare presume what I will do!?_", the Zealot asked, angry.

"I have told you before, yet you will not believe me.", Lasarra answered, weakly.

"I do not believe you have said the truth.", Biblos said, bitterly. "Your coward nature of entering the Daelaam by it's_ behind_ instead of it's front has assured so."

"What if you were attempting to enter again and again and thus be denied again and again to enter it?", Lasarra asked back, too weak to gather up any defiance. "What would you do?"

"Unlike you, I would simply _accept_ my set role, prisoner, and not deliver a flicker of attention to hearsay, even if it is related to the Hierarch and his cowardly nature.", Biblos answered, with disdain. "I spoke with your... _sister_, Lasarra. She has requested a visit to you."

Lasarra looked back at Biblos, her eyes wide.

"I am simply un-decided if I should allow you such visit or not.", Biblos said, in arrogance. "But, if you wish so, all you have to do, now, is answer me."

"You would not do that.", Lasarra said, nervous. "She is not here, and if she were here, she would never allow such torture."

"Then you clearly know _so little_ of the High Executor.", Biblos scoffed. "She approved for this interrogation, after all."

"No.", Lasara said, in denial.

"Indeed, female.", Biblos said. "Deny this all the times you desire, but the she has approved this. She has had enough of your insolent nature."

"_Do not dare!_", Lasarra asked, desperately and angry. "That is all I ask of you, do not dare say such things of her!"

"_N'arkham!_", Biblos roared, as an order. Then, the Zer'atai Dark Templar had picked his Warp Blade staff and approached Lasarra, unleashing it on her abdomen, delivering new pain to her. She yelped in new agony as her head lowered.

"Oh, I dare, prisoner!", Biblos said, arrogantly. "_I do dare!_ Because you have had done the same, by attempting to change what is unchangeable!"

"And that is my crime?", Lasarra asked, struggling against the pain. "To want something different? Something better?"

"You were born with your role set in our society, female.", Biblos said. "The idea of one such as you, _a craftswoman_, becoming a warrior is as preposterous as an insult against our traditions! You should have accepted your role and struggled to remain in it, yet you clearly refuse!"

"And I would again, Zealot.", Lasarra said, weakly. "That is my nature."

N'arkham then struck Lasarra again, on the same spot, as she yelped in pain again.

"_So, your nature is to be tortured again and again?_", Biblos mocked. "Mind your care, Lasarra, I can clearly grant you that. Now, will you answer my questions, or do you wish to have more pain?"

Lasarra only looked down in regret of choice.

"_So be it._", Biblos said, coldly, as he looked and nodded at N'arkham. The Zer'atai then approached the shackled Protoss as he took his staff, touching it's edge on one of the Psi-Blade wounds and started forcing it. When he could not, he started scratching it back and forth, increasing the pain. A pain renewed, and even greater than the cut itself.

The screams on that chamber echoed more than those across that corridor.

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, '_HARKONNEN_'**

He'd been there for a long time, staring at the digital figure of the Leviathan, encrusted on the mountain set, for minutes on end. Any other officer who didn't pass what he'd been through for the last days, or even Dominion people whom weren't on Char would often wonder why he was more concerned with a creature next door, apparently all quiet on it's own, and not on bigger matters like the Hive Clusters across the planet, being controlled and whatnot. His assistant, McGrudd, was outside the dark Command Room, busy making the pilot assignments and briefing the Ghost responsible on the mission ahead. That gave him plenty of time to keep track of the progress of the nuclear warheads he was now preparing, for an emergency situation.

"General!", Warfield heard someone at his side call him, a female voice. It belonged to his communications officer, whom approached and saluted him. "I just received a transmission."

"Transmission?", Warfield asked, turning to face the African-American officer. "From who?"

"We picked six Battlecruisers in orbit, all Minotaur-class.", the communications officer answered. "All ours. They're requesting permission to unload. The ship's captain say they're under direct orders from Korhal."

Warfield got himself dumbfounded by the news. He didn't receive any early news as of yet. He could do everything but wonder what was it they would unload. "Did they say what it is they want to unload?", he asked.

"They say it's reinforcements.", the officer answered. "Their commander wants to speak to you."

"Who?", Warfield asked.

"They say it's someone new.", the officer said. "General Prescott Maddox."

"_General!?_", Warfield asked, surprised and insulted. "Why the hell Mengsk would send another General to this hellhole?"

"He said nothing in the comms, sir.", the officer said. "He said he'll only speak to you, in person."

Warfield let out a sigh as he closed his eyes in frustration. That generally wasn't the meaning of good news.

"Give them permission.", Warfield ordered. "I'll be on the courtyard."

"Aye, General.", the officer complied as she returned to her duty. Warfield turned around to leave.

"Someone find McGrudd and tell him to hold the assignment!", Warfield barked on his way out. He tried to control his anger as the news had already got up to him. It wasn't enough to lose men and spotters and have no info at all. Now there was a General on the way to Char, and he didn't state his business in advance. Despite all the good saying that concerns joint operation, generally two chefs in a kitchen always meant trouble, particularly if their views of the situation were quite different from one another.

The same, apparently, applied to Generals.

* * *

**PILOT QUARTERS HALL D - BATTLECRUISER '_VENGEANCE_'**  
**DYLARIAN SHIPYARDS**

The quarters of the Dominion pilots housing within the Battlecruiser _Vengeance_, like every other Minotaur-class, weren't spacious, but also weren't too tight either. It supported two bunks, each with a bed atop another, meant for a crew of four per squadron, as well as a small cabinet for personal things. Henderson and Litvak were on the lower beds of each bunk, unpacking the new clothing and other appliances lost with the crash of the _Wrath_ on Phaeton. Metal covered floor, walls and ceiling, illuminated only by a fluorescent lamp. A small, rectangular viewing window stood between the bunks, shielded by reinforced glass.

So much Henderson as Litvak were at their normal faces, although both too were thinking, a bit worried, at what happened before they boarded in. That was just a bit too uncomfortable, what Keitel said and how she acted. Some could say she had something completely wrong with her. Her looks alone as she tiled her head said that alone.

"Well...", Henderson said, as he let out a sigh. "When do you think will be our first assignment?"

"Being or not patrol duty?", Litvak asked back, looking back when she saw Henderson staring back. "We still gotta warp first. Not to mention the Cap will want to make drills to make sure we're ready."

"Well, what you'll do next?", Henderson asked. "Unpacking, I mean? You'll get to know the ship?"

"Well, it's like any other, I suppose, so I'll be headed right to Mess Hall.", Litvak answered, after a brief pause. "You coming?"

"Depends.", Henderson answered. "You think we'll meet her there?"

Litvak paused and let out a sigh. "_I don't know..._", she said.

Suddenly, two small beats were heard, by the access door separating the quarter from the access hall. Henderson decided to step forward as he turned the swich that opened the door and kept holding it, to prevent it from shutting down after three seconds. As the door opened, he recognized the red-haired figure from the viewing deck. The member of Keitel's squadron.

"Hi.", Henderson said, plainly, as both stared each other. "Can I help you with something?"

"No, mister Henderson, just saying hello.", Yeats said. "I also want to ask: Are you busy, by the way?"

"Well, I'm unpacking my stuff.", Henderson answered. "Why the question?"

"Well, I just finished mine, and the Wing Commander told the _Vengeance_ won't be warping for at least an hour.", Yeats said. "But good news is that the Cantina is officially open, so, if you want, I'd like to invite you for a couple of shots. You can bring your partner along if you want."

"Well, I'll have to think about it-", Henderson said.

"If it's a motivator, I'll assure you Keitel and the Sweden won't be there, so it's just the three of us.", Yeats interrupted, smiling. "Both are busy on overseeing Valkyrie refit and won't take less than an hour too. So, you won't have to get all nervous like you are when you're close to her. Real spooky, the lady, isn't she?"

Henderson was dumbstruck at the revelation, so much that he almost lost the grip on the door switch.

"Are you...", Henderson hesitated a bit, motioning his right hand. "A..."

"_Telepath?_", Yeats said, letting out a chuckle. "They often ask me that, but no. I just have this awful gift of seeing the too obvious, a family gift, they say, but it's frequently brought me into trouble."

"Well, I can fit in that, sure, miss...", Henderson said before he was lost in her names. "Yets, isn't it?"

"_Yeats._", Yeats corrected. "But you can call me Mandy, if you want."

"Well, won't be a problem, then.", Henderson said, relieved.

"I knew it wouldn't.", Yeats said, smiling, turning to leave. "See you shortly, then."

Henderson felt himself a bit more relieved to see someone in that group wasn't as intimidating or disturbing as he saw Yeats walk forward, past the corridor. Litvak had simply been watching it all from behind, and was looking with a worried face since the invitation was asked.

"_Are you mental?_", Litvak asked, though calmly. "You simply accepted her invitation? She, who's with that group?"

"I don't see what's wrong, she sounded pretty normal.", Henderson said, letting go of the door switch, stepping back and turning to face his wingwoman.

"_Too normal_, for that band of lunatics.", Litvak said, sarcastically. "Ever thought it's a trap, and she's the bait?"

"It can also be a chance to know a bit of them, get to know whom we're dealing.", Henderson said. "So it's worth the risk. You?"

"Thanks, but I'll pass.", Litvak answered. "I'm not a drinking person, and sure as hell not a masochist."

Henderson laughed a bit, before he turned the switch again, opening the door, and walked out.

* * *

**HYPERION HANGAR BAY 12**  
**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

He'd been beating his feet, impatiently, as the Dropship was performing it's slow touchdown on the hangar floor of the _Hyperion._ His blood pressure was high as was his heat of what happened on the outpost, more than half-hour ago. He was, at the same time, relieved and mad. Relieved that he got out of that pull with his body intact, but he was mad of the way things ended. What was supposed to have ended with words said, a decision made and the Protoss settlement intact, ended instead with a confirmed K.I.A and artillery everywhere, ruining the outpost moments after sniper rounds had shot the Preator responsible for the encampment dead. He looked around the cargo bay to see Bruener was struggling to fight the pain the particle disruptors had caused her. These, many times, often became much worse than the standard gunshot. Carradine and White had been rested, their faces more relieved than angry, at all.

_It was his doing, no doubt._ Even when he told him to not meddle in this, he did it. This was sure because he'd been down there, while the Umojan personnel was being transported down to the planet, and he had heard of the Protoss. Now, the Crown Prince's antics had only made things worse. The Protoss were always a vengeful people. They wouldn't let this one go unpunished, not even if it took them a long time to do something. They'd return, and they'd do it _in force_, surely to strike directly at the _Hyperion_ this time. And the colonists would dearly pay for the circus act.

A small thump was felt on the floor as metal unlocking sounds were heard as the ramp-like doors of the cargo bay started to lower down, opening the Dropship.

"About time!", Horner exclaimed, angry, as he started to walk down in a hurry, meeting the crewmembers whom were stepping in to tend to the ship. Amongst them was one of the officers, Bralik. "_Where is he!?_"

"By the bridge, sir, he said he was going to wait for you.", Bralik answered.

"Dammit, and I thought I asked Swann to keep an eye on him!", Horner shouted, furious.

"The crew found him unconscious on the storage bay.", Bralik said. "By the time he woke up, Valerian's men were already off. They used two of our Dropships for that. _Burlesque_ and _Chicago._"

"_Son of a bitch..._", Horner cursed, livid, as he started walking. "Lock the hangar bays down, no one leaves without my express permission! I'm headed to the bridge."

"I'm coming with you, Cap.", White said, starting to follow.

"No, you're taking Bruener to the Sick Bay.", Horner ordered. "I'm going alone."

"Valerian will have his buddies shielding him, no doubt.", White said back.

"I'll rather have sent out a punch on him before that.", Horner said, furious, as the door automatically opened and both entered the access corridor. Horner was on point. "I don't believe, I _told_ him to stay out of it!"

"Hey, calm down, boss, you're gonna have a stroke, raging around like that!", White exclaimed.

"**I AM CALM!**", Horner roared, as both turned right into an intersection, passing by a mechanic. "_I just want to kill him, that's all!_"

"Well, how much do you think is the time for murdered Princes?", White asked, trying to distract a bit.

"I don't know, White.", Horner answered, angry, as both stopped into an automatic circular door that led to the elevator. The door opened, and both entered the closed, square lift, White heading first. "_But right now, I'd do it with all satisfaction._"

Horner then pressed the button and the lift started to climb it's way up, to the level that'd take both to the corridor leading to the bridge of the _Hyperion_. The ride had been brief, and then the door opened, revealing the access hall. Both left the elevator and proceeded left;

"This is gonna get cranky, y'know?", White said, as Horner made a right turn and he followed. "People will talk about this."

"Let'em.", Horner said, bitter. "Right now, I won't give a damn."

Both had then arrived by the access door to the bridge, that already opened. There, they could see the heart of the Raiders' operations, filled with Dominion and Raider crewmembers, as Horner stepped in and immediately found Valerian, by the Star Map table. He had two Marines in CMC-300 suit behind him, as bodyguards. Valerian walked aside the Star Map table as Horner walked to him. Vaughn, whom was by the viewing window, noticed Horner step in.

"Hey- **HEY!**", White said, but then roared when Horner rushed to him.

"_You son of a...!_", Horner exclaimed, livid, as he unleashed a right hook on him, with enough strength to make the Crown Prince fall to the ground, hitting the table. Valerian's bodyguards rushed to Horner and barred him at the stop.

"_Geez, Horner, for the love of..._", Vaughn rushed to hold him.

"**BACK OFF! NOW!**", one of the bodyguards roared, pushing Horner back.

"Is that it!?", Valerian asked, livid from the blow, as he got on his feet. "_Is that how you thank me!?_"

"What did I tell you!?", Horner shouted, furious. "**WHAT DID I GODDAMN TELL YOU!?**"

"You should be thanking me!", Valerian shouted, angry. "_I just saved your goddamn life!_"

"**YOU ONLY MADE THINGS WORSE, YOU BIG-HEADED MORON!**", Horner roared. "I told you to not stick your nose in there! I had it under control, but still you decided to _screw it all up_!"

"_That Protoss was going to kill you!_", Valerian defended himself. "Why else he'd turn that Psi-Blade on!? I had to act! What if I didn't send those men down there!? Who'd help you!?"

"_That's not the point!_", Horner shouted. "You just made a big screw-up this time, don't you get it!? A screw-up that just cost a life, down there! And the Protoss won't just let this one go to walk, Valerian! The moment Shakuras learns of your stunt, they'll bring in the _whole fleet_! And the people down there are gonna pay the price along with everyone here!"

"Hey, Horner, please, now you're being too hard!", White exclaimed louder. "We weren't getting _anywhere_ with that talk, either! Those jerks wouldn't back off, for all I know!"

"So now you're defending him, Sergeant?", Horner asked, turning around to face White.

"Course not, Cap.", White answered. "He got a little too far, but he did cut us a way out, and saved our asses. At least, cut him a break, he earned it!"

Horner took a deep breath from his anger.

"Not to mention you could've been caught.", Horner said, starting to calm down. "You think the colonists wouldn't notice the artillery firing away, close to their colony? What would I tell them, then, as explanation?"

"Captain!", a female voice came from behind White. The voice belonged to Hall. "Transmission, from the planet. It's Hanson."

"_What!?_", Horner asked, shocked. He then closed his eyes in frustration as he let out a sigh. "Valerian, please, get out of here. Hall, patch it through."

Valerian began to step aside, passing by White as the green Cartesian globe on the Star Map table switched to a transmission screen, showing the face of Ariel Hanson on screen.

"_Ariel?_", Horner asked, with a surprising tone, in an effort to mask his anger. "What happened?"

"Horner, please, don't try to fool me.", Hanson said, with a nervous tone. "Just answer me, _is it true_? Are you working with the Dominion?"

"_What!?_", Horner asked, trying to fake innocence and surprised. "Working with the Dominion, what are you talking about-"

"_Horner, please!_", Hanson insisted, her voice tense. She took a deep breath. "Aaron took a few men to the Protoss settlement. I know you asked not to, but he did, he believed you needed help. But now, he came back and he told me he just saw Dominion soldiers and Siege Tanks by a clearing, close to where the Protoss are! So, please, don't do it! Don't try and make me a fool! Just tell me, is it true?"

Horner realized he'd been caught now and there was no way out. He simply closed his eyes, and lowered his head in guilt. By the screen, Ariel widened her eyes and her face went dumbstruck.

"No...", Hanson said, aghast. "Horner... _why?_"

"Please, Ariel, let me explain.", Horner pleaded, raising his head.

"_Explain what, Horner?_", Hanson asked back, anguished. "And how am I gonna explain it to the people out there? Aaron's already spread the news, they want answers at this instant!"

"These aren't Dominion soldiers, Ariel.", Horner tried to explain.

"_They have the red color and the shield, Horner!_", Ariel immediately exclaimed, her nerves up high. "How they can't be of the Dominion?"

"They're renegades, Ariel.", Horner explained. "They're not with Mengsk."

"And why should I believe that?", Hanson asked. "You just confirmed you're with them, so why should I take your world?"

"Because they're with me.", another voice said, firmly, and stepping to Horner's side. Valerian, whom briefly stopped to listen to the conversation, decided to intervene when things were getting dicey. Ariel widened her eyes as her jaw dropped.

"_V- Valerian Mengsk?_", Hanson asked, surprised. "You're _alive_? How-"

"My father made up that news, miss Hanson. The truth is that I went rogue and joined Raynor's side.", Valerian answered, firmly. "You and your people should know my father has a penchant for lying."

Hanson could barely find words for what she was seeing. The Crown Prince of the Dominion, believed dead, was besides Horner, within the Raiders' home vessel. "But...", she hesitated at first. "Wait, so, if your death is false... Then, Jim-"

"No, miss Hanson.", Valerian immediately interrupted. "Unfortunately, that news is real. I'm sorry."

Hanson swallowed hard, in disbelief. A hope that immediately erupted was then crushed back.

"If you'll allow me, miss, I'd like to extend my apologies.", Valerian continued. "Especially in the light of the current situation. Unfortunately, it seems now that the secret can't be kept anymore, so, please, forgive Captain Horner for his efforts in hiding the knowledge of our cooperation from you. He did this per my request. The less people know the Raiders are working alongside us, the better, it seems. Such is the _burden_ the Mengsk name is carrying, as of late."

"But... But, mister Mengsk...", Hanson stuttered and then hesitated, nervous.

"Please, miss Hanson, call me Valerian, or Prince Valerian, if it suits fine.", Valerian said.

"But... _How am I going to explain to those people?_", Hanson asked, now calmed down, yet a bit nervous.

"_I will_, miss Hanson.", Valerian answered. "I'll go down there and answer what they need to know."

"Valerian, are you _mad_?", Horner asked, nervous, staring at the Crown Prince. "That's all they'll want, you'll be a living target down there!"

"I will go down there, Captain, and I will face the public.", Valerian insisted, firmly. "It'll be much better, that way. It's time we stopped keeping secrets and faced the music.", he added, as he then turned to face Ariel. "Can you hold these people until tomorrow, miss Hanson?"

"I don't know.", Hanson answered, stressed. "Maybe."

"Then tomorrow I'll be down there. I'll leave to where the conference will be on your hands.", Valerian replied.

"We can set up a podium by the center of the colony.", Hanson said. "It'll be a good place to hold the conference."

"Then, please, spread the word, miss Hanson.", Valerian asked. "I'll be there tomorrow, and I'll answer their questions. And if anyone asks otherwise, tell them that, unlike my father, I'm a man of my word."

Hanson remained quiet for a moment, taking a small breath.

"Okay, then.", Hanson said. "Tomorrow, in the center. I hope you won't disappoint... Prince Valerian."

"Trust me, miss Hanson, _I won't._", Valerian assured. "Until tomorrow, then."

Valerian pressed the button on the Star Map, as the transmission screen was shut down.

"_Have you lost your mind, Valerian?_", Horner asked, angry. "They'll come up _swarming_ with questions, and you know it! Why your father abandoned Agria and the other fringe world colonies, why your father didn't answer the calls for help, every sort of thing even you won't have an answer for! _What are you gonna tell them, then_?"

"The truth, Captain.", Valerian answered, plainly. "Pure and simple. If we're lucky, it'll answer their questions."

"And what if it doesn't?", Horner said, as Valerian turned around to leave the bridge.

"Then we're in deep shit.", Valerian spout out.

* * *

**_VENGEANCE_ CANTINA  
ANOTHER FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

The very first impression Ebert Henderson had, the moment he crossed the access door and looked into the Cantina of the _Vengeance_, was that it was genuinely big. The size alone and format said it. Unlike the cantinas of several other Battlecruisers, namely those of older models, like the Behemoth-class, the cantina of the Minotaur-class merged both Cantina and Mess Hall into one large, rectangular-shaped area, allowing the Battlecruiser to house more military personnel, particularly those who'd do ground missions.

Fluorescent light could be seen above, by the ceiling, without any luminaries at all, making the Cantina more spacious and more wide than if it had luminaries. Alongside one side of the room, long tables rested, meant to support the maximum number of people possible as they feasted and quenched both hunger and thirst. There were also circular bar tables with stools, however, meant for people who'd like little to no company. Those stood close to the entrance, from where Henderson had stepped in. A small bar, being kept by an overweight bald Caucasian male with a mustache, served the drinks, as well as the plates from the kitchen inside, where the menu of the day would come out of. Atop the bar, lied a very large flat screen plasma television, for people to keep accompanying the news, as the channel was always set to the Universal News Network. Sound boxes were set along the corners of the room, as they sounded off classic music, from the stereo device that was being controlled from a specific room one level up, where no entry was allowed. The access was made by a door, that hid behind a stair leading to the floor above.

Henderson took a deep breath as he stepped in the Cantina, walking his way past to the bar. There, he could see Marines off their suits, pilots and even one or two officers occupying their place as they talked their lives and other issues. Some of them had drinks on their hands, namely beer and bourbon. By the bar and it's three stools, he could see only one of them was occupied, by a certain red head girl. As she looked to the sides, as if she was waiting for someone, she noticed Henderson closing in her.

"Hey.", Yeats said, smiling. "Was just going to ask for your drink. Hope you enjoy B.L.T."

"Yeah, that one ain't bad.", Henderson replied. "Though I like Black Sparrow the most."

"Fine by me.", Yeats answered back, as she then looked at the barkeeper. "A B.L.T and a Black Sparrow, I'll cover his."

The barkeeper than turned his back as he picked up the bottles and liquor, starting to prepare the drink.

"Don't you want me to pay for both?", Henderson asked, sitting on the stool to Yeats' left. "It's courtesy, where I come from."

"I'll let you, next time, mate.", Yeats replied. "So, now that we're here, where do you want to begin? Right at the spot, with Greta and Jurgen?"

"Well, I was hoping to vary it a little, y'know, where you come from, and stuff.", Henderson said. "But, if you insist..."

Yeats chuckled a bit.

"No, it's your choice, Henderson.", Yeats said.

"Alright, then.", Henderson said, as the barkeeper approached both glasses with their respective drinks, putting them at the bar. Henderson picked his, nodding to the barkeeper in appreciation. "What's it with her? I mean, she being so..."

"_Peculiar?_", Yeats completed, picking her B.L.T. glass and taking a sip. "Yeah, she often behaves like that with people, but I've seen her do even more _bizarre_ things."

"Bizarre?", Henderson asked, shrugging his forehead.

"A time or two she likes sneaking up on other people's quarters.", Yeats answered. "Mostly uninvited. That's why I better advise you to lock your quarters tight. She mostly brings a knife along."

Henderson, who was drinking a sip of his own, spit it in an instant, almost choking with the drink.

"_A knife!?_", Henderson asked, surprised and aghast. "You're kidding, right?"

"Well, if it serves as consolation, she doesn't do anything with it.", Yeats answered, sounding strangely indifferent, even to such a revelation. "Nothing that hurts or kills, I mean. She just has this... _loony psycho aura_ going on from her, if you understand my language."

"Pretty too well, I'm afraid.", Henderson said, worried. "So, if she does that, why the hell is she still flying?"

"She's the best.", Yeats said. "And the previous best are being dropped down like flies, lately..."

"Well, yeah, but isn't she supposed to be doing therapy or something?", Henderson asked.

"Already tried that.", Yeats said, staring at Henderson and counting with her fingers as she rested her drink glass by the bar. "Myself, my former colleague Max, six officers, four ship captains. Double all these numbers on doctors and shrinks, then a third on Ghosts who tried psionic repair. Not a chance, at all. Her mind's been just to damaged to bring something back to senses."

"Just too damaged?", Henderson asked, curious and intrigued.

"Her resocialization had gone wrong, according to what Jurgen told me.", Yeats answered, taking a sip. "Some jackass intern put a wrong chemical or two than what she was supposed to have."

"A chemical put wrong could easily kill her.", Henderson said.

"True, but it didn't.", Yeats replied. "Although her kidneys needed replacement, for sure."

"And...", Henderson started, hesitating. "What of the other guy?"

"Jurgen?", Yeats asked, smirking. "No, his Resoc went just fine, he's just like that. Don't worry, people get intimidated by him at first sight, but he's mostly a nice guy. Just don't hurt Keitel on his sight. Break her heart, I mean. You'll often regret it."

"_He's her boyfriend, I suppose?_", Henderson asked, not surprised at all.

"Yes... and no.", Yeats said, frowning. "Curiously, they never admitted it."

"Seems like, to me.", Henderson said. "Strangely, you seem pretty normal, Yeats, compared to these both."

"Yeah, they look strange, at first, but they're good people.", Yeats said. "Just try and get involved to them if they ask you to. You'll like them. And please, call me Mandy."

"Well, you'll have to call me Ebert, then.", Henderson said, letting out a snicker. Yeats followed.

"_Ebert?_", Yeats asked, sounding funny. "Funny name for a handsome like you."

"Blame my mother.", Henderson said. "She loved movies just too much. She said it was the name of someone, used to write critic on them."

"Well, mine loved poetry.", Yeats replied. "Hence my last name. Guess we have a peculiar thing in common, eh?"

"Seems so.", Henderson commented. "So, where you're from?"

"Not from this Sector, I assure you.", Yeats answered. "We were with the UED expedition during the Brood War."

"So you're from Earth?", Henderson asked.

"Greta and Jurgen are.", Yeats answered. "I'm from Tau Ceti III. Was a beautiful place, at least when I got 'conscripted', at the time."

"Conscripted?", Henderson asked. "So the people on Earth also forced it's people on serving military?"

"All families registered on the colonies are required to have a member serving the military.", Yeats explained. "But they offer bonus if there are more family members serving. Earth, curiously is the only place where service is voluntary."

That was hardly a surprise for Henderson, given the government he was serving pretty much adopted forced military conscription. Not only this, but slave labor, made of prisoners and 'selected' henchmen, was also free and commonly used in Arcturus Mengsk's territories. The Directorate, apparently, seemed to do the same back on Earth, with only the supposed twist Yeats pointed out.

"Just out of curiosity, how's Basic in that place?", Henderson asked.

"Sophisticated, but also harsh.", Yeats answered. "They tend to check on people twice a day. There's also daily indoctrination."

"Indoctrination?", Henderson asked.

"Resocialization, but with propaganda on the head.", Yeats explained. "They put a machine on your head, with glasses, and it starts bombarding propaganda in your head. Things like the Directorate is supreme, death before dishonor, stuff like that."

"Then how you're serving the Dominion?", Henderson asked. "A thing like that always ensures people will prefer to die than to backstab their faction..."

"Well...", Yeats started. "It happens that-"

'_Attention, Lieutenant Amanda Yeats, please report to briefing room._', suddenly, the PA spoke, echoing around the cantina. '_I repeat, Lieutenant Yeats to Briefing Room._'

Yeats let out a sigh as she took a last sip of her drink.

"Dammit.", Yeats said, in regret. "Well, Henderson, you won't mind if I..."

"No, Yeats, it's understandable.", Henderson said. "I'll want to continue later, though."

Yeats smirked as she got off her stool.

"Next time, you get to pay, though.", Yeats said, with some humor in her voice, as she let out a chuckle and turned to leave. "See you later.", she ended, as she walked to the other access door, close to the bar. Henderson took another sip as he smiled.

Though, too, what she said made him quite contemplative, especially concerning Keitel. It seems there was some explanation, after all, for why Keitel behaved like she did. And, yet, there were things, too, that didn't make sense to her behavior. Since when she's been allowed to sneak up within, with a knife on her hand? He made an effort to remember what she recommended as he took another sip. Apparently, for Henderson, Keitel became a larger jigsaw puzzle. One where the pieces didn't match.

One simply too hard for anyone to solve. Especially him.

He then rested the glass as he also walked out of the bar.

'_Lieutenant Ebert Henderson, report to briefing room immediately._', the PA started again. '_Lieutenant Henderson to briefing room, immediately._'

"_Already?_", Henderson asked out loud, as he turned around to the other access door, as he was heading to where he first entered from.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

More and more pain progressed during her torture. So much in those wounds as in her entire body, especially on her leg joints. After N'arkham had toyed with the wounds radically, Biblos ordered him to beat repeatedly on the joints of her legs and arms, the most fragile and most likely to break. Her eyes were tightly shut, trying to cope with the newfound pain that struck her at every section of her body.

All the meanwhile, Biblos had been watching all of it, with a look that could easily be described as one of indifference and sadistic. A sick pleasure, apparently, at her torture. She still would not give in. She still would continue, even though such pain, repeatedly, could end her life.

So be it, then, if she so chose it.

"_Enough!_", Biblos ordered, as N'arkham returned to his previous position, by the chamber doors. He then looked at the broken figure of Lasarra, whom was clearly withering in pain, all over her, too much for one such as her to stand. He walked closely to the small creature before him, one so stripped of her honor and dignity as of the clothing and armor she once had.

"Have you suffered enough, female?", Biblos asked, staring at her. "Have I _broke_ you enough so you will answer my questions?"

Lasarra was virtually grinding in pain, unable to answer those questions. She was unable to say anything, at all.

"I can wait from this entire moonrise to the other.", Biblos said, indifferent. "Your wounds mean _nothing_ to me, neither the waste of time you will take attempting to cope with the pain. What I have learned, Initiate, is the universe itself is _painful_. It is harsh and unforgiving as I am. And I am merely but delivering you a _sample_."

Lasarra could barely hear the words of the person torturing her, again and again. It was simply too much.

"But I can make it all stop.", Biblos said, calling Lasarra's attention. "I have such power, prisoner. All you I ask of you, is to _speak_."

Lasarra, however, did not say anything at all.

"Will you not say anything?", Biblos said, in resigning as he walked back. "You dare refuse to answer my questions? Or perhaps you will answer to _another_ questions?"

Lasarra raised her head, weakily.

"What...", Lasarra said, trying to hold to her consciousness. "What... questions?"

"_As I suspected._", Biblos said, moving away. "N'arkham. Come."

Biblos and N'arkham then had left the chamber, as Lasarra was left alone, as the shell doors of the chamber closed.

"No...", Lasarra whispered. "I cannot, 'tis to much for me to bear. Please..."

'_It will end, Lasarra._', the voice tried to comfort. '_It will end, you are doing well._'

"_Doing well!?_", Lasarra gasped out loud. "You name this 'doing well'!?"

'_You cannot give in._', the voice said. '_It will be much more worse if you do._'

"_More worse than this?_", Lasarra asked, in agony. "After such pain, I ask, what can be more _worse_?"

'_I cannot know._', the voice said. '_All I know is that you cannot give in._'

"No!", Lasarra said, desperate. "I cannot!"

'_You can, Lasarra._', the voice said, trying to recomfort. '_The greatest trial is yet to come. Within you, I am sure you can._'

"_Please, do not!_", Lasarra begged. "Stop asking me this! Please... Let me make my choice."

'_You can choose._', the voice said. '_But your choice will only be much worse._'

"Why do you say that?", Lasarra asked.

However, Lasarra heard no voice this time. She looked around, across the empty chamber.

"Where are you?", Lasarra asked, aloud, dumbfounded. "Why will you not answer?"

Suddenly, the shell door opened again, and Lasarra looked at the figure, to notice it was neither Biblos nor N'arkham. It was a female figure, with a smooth chest plate with large arcs, as well as two black capes and a headwear shaped like wings. She had blue eyes that were looking with an adamant opinion of the prisoner before her. Lasarra widened her eyes when she looked at the new visitor. She recognized that figure so much as that look she gave. She always gave that stare at the worst times. Worst times where Lasarra was always present.

She shook her head, in denial, closing her eyes as she refused to believe. At the same time, the figure entered the chamber and approached.

"No!", Lasarra shouted in disbelief. "'Tis not you, it is just a Hallucination! You are not-"

Suddenly a strike erupted from Selendis' back of her right hand as Lasarra was shut quiet.

"Does this look like a Hallucination to you, Lasarra!?", Selendis asked, livid. "_Does it!?_"

Lasarra could feel the impact, so much like the pain that came after. It did not seemed possible, but it was. She was before her, in flesh and blood.

"Are you enjoying this!?", Selendis asked, angry and anguished. "_Are you enjoying this, sister!?_"

"_Why do you not answer it!?_", Lasarra asked, angry, yet desperate. "Biblos told me you allowed my torture!"

"You forced my hand!", Selendis answered, nervous. "Do you have any idea of what you have done? _Of the humiliation I had to come through!?_ I could barely stare at Artanis, in his very eyes! And what the _others_ have said? That perhaps you should take my place, as I 'cower with the Hierarch' while my sister is more than willing to become a simple Zealot!?"

Lasarra looked down and shut her eyes tight in embarrassment and humiliation.

"So, it is true, then.", Lasarra whimpered, regretful and in sorrow. "He had told you."

"_That was your blame alone as well, sister!_", Selendis said, angry. "When I received the records of the expedition to Kaldir, and I saw your very name on it, how did you think I reacted!? The original responsible for the expedition was supposed to be Kunan, but I had to put Raseac in charge because of _you_!"

"What are you talking about!?", Lasarra asked, in panic.

"_Have you not realized?_", Selendis asked, bitterly dumbstruck. "I _ordered_ Raseac to hand you that offer, to see if you would be so willing to come through this. I was hoping you would refuse! That you would leave behind the concept of being a warrior, should the temptation be offered! _How I regret how wrong I was!_"

"_That was you!?_", Lasarra asked, in horror. "You had set all this on your own_ sister_!?"

"Everything has a limit, sister, and that includes my _patience_!", Selendis said, closing in on her. "It was even amusing before, you attempting to deny your role! But now this has gone too far!"

"You did this on me!", Lasarra repeated. "You did all this on me! _How could you!?_"

"All you had to was to resist all they said of me, and thus of you.", Selendis criticized. "None of this would have happened. I would not have received such harsh critic and mockery in the Assembly and you would not be in this chamber!"

"As far as I remember, sister, you cared not for my opinion or what others thought of me!", Lasarra replied, angry. "Why would you care now!?"

Selendis, however, had beaten her face again. She yelped in pain.

"**I CARE, SISTER!**", Selendis roared. "Do not _ever_ dare say that I do not care! As you so delightfully told me, my reputation reflects upon you. Alas, your reputation, however, also _reflects upon me_! And I will not allow you to stain it far more than you already have!"

"As you always have...", Lasarra said, disgusted.

"What do you want, Lasarra?", Selendis asked, frustrated in anger. "That is the greatest riddle of all, so beyond my very intellect: _What do you want!?_"

"_You know well what I want!_", Lasarra shouted, angry as well. "You always knew, yet you always denied it!"

"_You know well why I did it!_", Selendis shouted back. "You are my blood, my bond, my most important matter of all!"

"I do not believe it!", Lasarra said, nervous. "State this all you desire, sister, but I am an _infant_ no longer! At least have the courage to tell me the truth!"

"_The truth!?_", Selendis asked, livid. "Do you believe you can bear the truth!? That what you most thought is all true!?"

Lasarra only stared at her with the anger she could hold onto. The deadlocking took a long moment between one another.

"So, you want the truth? _So be it, then._", Selendis said, resigned, yet with a disdainful tone of mockery, as she slowly approached her face close to hers. "No more lies, then, _little sister._ The truth is that... _I despise you._ The _truth_ is that I _laugh_ at every turn you try to become a warrior, something you _clearly_ cannot bear to be. The truth, _dear little sister_, is that you are a weak, _pathetic bloodling_, worth not the genetic strand of my father and his father before him. A little infant so ridiculously attempting to become a grown female, struggling against something that will never,_ ever_ happen during my existence! The truth is that you are nothing but another _slobbering piece of walking meat_, whom did not even deserved to be _born_. The truth is I am _everything_ and you are _nothing._ I am everything you do not _have_. I am everything you will _never have_!"

Lasarra, since the start of what Selendis told, was defiant, but then she lost it in disbelief of the venomous truth that her own sister was telling her. The tone was mockful and destructive enough for even the bravest Zealot of Aiur to lose faith and hope. She always knew the High Executor was somehow jealous concerning her reputation, but she never knew this was on another level. In the end, Lasarra's expression was one of horror.

"No...", Lasarra said, tremoring.

"Shocked, little weakling sister?", Selendis asked, deviously evil. "Good. _You were meant to._"

"You are not my sister...", Lasarra mumbled, in horror. Selendis chuckled.

"_With all due reason._", Selendis evily agreed. "I am not your sister. _I never was_. And were not for the promise to protect you, you would not even be on Shakuras, before the Ark departed."

"What?", Lasarra asked, dumbstruck.

"But now, it is time to cut loose ends.", Selendis said. "To correct mistakes held too long..."

"_No._", Lasarra said, in horror. "No! This is not you! This is not truly you!"

"Oh, 'tis truly me, indeed, prisoner.", Selendis replied, with disdain, as she raised high, on her feet, standing arrogantly tall before her. "You desired the_ truth_, did you not? There is only one great problem with truth, though. Many times it has the strength to break. Many times it has the strength to_ kill_."

"No!", Lasarra shouted, in despair and anguish. "NO! SISTER, PLEASE, FORGIVE ME!"

Selendis simply struck Lasarra again, this time coldly and violently.

"You are not my sister, Lasarra.", Selendis said, coldly. "_I have no sister._"

"**YOU MADE A PROMISE!**", Lasarra roared, desperate. "**YOU CANNOT BREAK IT!**"

Selendis gave Lasarra yet another cold strike.

"But I did not break it, _female._", Selendis said, ironically. "You broke it first. Therefore, this gives me quite an immunity on the actions ahead, do you not agree?"

Selendis then turned her back and started walking to the shell door.

"No, please, do not do this.", Lasarra begged, in complete despair and fear. "Do not do this. _Do not do this!_"

The High Executor, however, did not even seem to hear to the words spouted out, as she did not even stop or looked behind. The shell door of the chamber then opened, as she stepped out but then stopped and looked to the left.

"I will prepare the execution order.", Selendis said, coldly. "Take a... _special_ care of her, in the meantime."

With this said, she left as Biblos and N'arkham readily entered the chamber.

"_Sister, please!_", Lasarra roared in despair. "SISTER! **SISTER!**"

"So, prisoner!", Biblos called her attention. "You have managed it. Do not fret, however. _It will end._"

Lasarra's eyes widened in horror. Those same words from before. Her words. The same tone of hope, though this one was more filled with arrogance.

The chamber then closed, as new screams, louder than those of last times, echoed across the corridor and corridors nearby.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

Massive shadows overtook the courtyard again, but this time with the hulking flying husks of Battlecruisers as they kept afloat. Six of the enormous vessel, each with enough size to overtake a portion of the _Harkonnen_ Fortress, were over the extensive courtyard of the Dominion stronghold, the adjunct base platforms that housed Dominion machinery and armed personnel, and even over the Primary Operations Center itself. Dropships bearing the white and red color patterns descended and lifted from the courtyard, to the hangar bays of those giant Terran vessels, as new soldiers, vehicles and equipment were being unloaded by the minute on the already cluttered area.

The soldiers that boarded off the Dropships, as well as the new vehicles, however, didn't seem to be stopping by the courtyard, but were instead leaving it to gather up at somewhere else. Warfield thought it was better. The courtyard was already cluttered and there'd be not enough space to fit all people. A shadow passed by him as an enormous new vessel, one shaped like small freighter, yet sleeker and somewhat akin to a bus, slowed speed and started landing on one of the wider Landing Pads, meant for Hercules-class transports. The Hercules transport was a larger transport, even more than Dropships, meant to carry an entire infantry platoon or larger vehicles like Siege Tanks on it's belly. Being larger, it was considerably more armored, particularly on the engines, although it was a bit slower too, with the strain of carrying extra armor all around.

The frontal cargo bay door and the side doors of the Hercules opened as it touched the ground revealing the people inside. Several Marines in red-clad CMC-300 started stepping out of the transport, and took positions as a new figure stepped out, one who wasn't on his suit. He instead was wearing a military uniform, a dark-green one, with the Dominion shield stitched in it's shoulders as well as golden pauldrons. This person was Caucasian, in his forties, with black hair and mustache. He shared brown eyes as well. His expression reeked both of arrogance, pomposity and harsh towards others. He and the Marines marched forward, towards the courtyard. Two of the Marines, at least, as the others proceeded the same way every other soldier went. Warfield saw that new person, the supposed General that wanted to talk to him, and moved forward to meet him.

As both met, the newcomer saluted as his soldiers stood behind him.

"Mister Warfield, I presume.", the newcomer introduced himself. "General Prescott Maddox, from Dominion High Command. Currently in charge of the recently established Second Char Reserve, with orders from the Emperor himself."

"Welcome to Hell, then, General.", Warfield greeted, attempting to be professional despite the clear tone of arrogance the new General carried with his voice. "As you can see, the _Harkonnen_ facility isn't that much, but isn't lacking either."

Maddox only scoffed in mockery. "I've seen better, General, truth be told.", he said. "Even from the UED expedition in their worst days, in the end of the Brood War."

"Why you're here, then?", Warfield asked. "The orders must be pretty damn important, for yourself to come down here in person to deliver'em."

"_All Dominion orders are important, General._", Maddox replied, sarcastically. "At least, you should _consider_ them important, given your loyalty is already in very much question, as of late..."

"My loyalty isn't none of your damn business.", Warfield said, insulted. "And there's _nothing_ to be questioned about my loyalty. I continue to serve the Dominion, despite all that happened."

"Do you, General?", asked Maddox, in arrogance. "Your actions here seem to say pretty otherwise."

"_Otherwise!?_", Warfield asked, angry. "We defeated the Queen of Blades! We captured the very palace of the Swarm for the Dominion as we also fractured the whole damn Zerg all over!"

"Indeed, you've done it, General.", Maddox agreed, with a heavy tone of irony. "Although, let's say, you didn't do it _alone_, and not with Emperor Mengsk's permission."

"His son granted me the permission I needed.", Warfield said, firmly. "He had a similar authority, by then."

"By then, indeed.", Maddox said. "But now he's dead, died a _traitor_, he's been that since he recruited the scum of humanity to fight for him instead of denouncing them, like every good Dominion citizen should do."

"The 'scum of humanity', as you may call the Raiders, fought the Zerg and Kerrigan herself, even more than _my men_ ever would!", Warfield exclaimed, angry. "At least I have the decency to admit it."

"And thus this adds further to the shame, General.", Maddox said, in abject arrogance. "Admitting the finest soldiers of the Dominion and their executive officer were _outmatched by a band of traitors_. Traitors that are condemned, known and wanted across the Sector! Were not for the Emperor's good graces, you'd already be dishonorably discharged, and then summarily executed!"

"And if I had the same choice, I'd choose the option one more damn time.", Warfield answered back, bitterly. "So if you want to take a shot, Maddox, do it. Won't be a wasted round."

Maddox scoffed.

"I'd do it, if I could.", Maddox said. "Still, I have my own orders to follow, as you do, General. And, I need add, these require an express obedience."

"_And what are those orders exactly?_", Warfield asked.

"As you may have noticed, we are a second task force, meant not only to 'aid' you in purging this world of Zerg, but to also hold it by all means.", Maddox started. "The escape of the Queen of Blades has increased the sense of alarm within the Dominion, as well as the discovery of the giant Zerg space strains known as the Leviathans."

"We know those damn things. We fought one of them here.", Warfield said. "And, in case you're curious, there's one neighboring besides us, by the mountains. You could 'aid' us in cleaning it out."

"The extend of our aid, General, will only concern sending reinforcements, not in cleaning _your_ mess in _your_ territory.", Maddox said, in complete arrogance. "Now, as I was saying before you _impetuously_ interrupted me, the Emperor has been quite worried himself. With Kerrigan loose, it's highly probable she'll attempt to reunite the Swarm and renew a campaign that will culminate in the total destruction of the Dominion. This will not be allowed, and Char will be the very first step."

"In what sense, Maddox?", Warfield asked, trying to contain himself.

"Char is the very 'throne' of the Zerg, General.", Maddox declared. "You should _know_ it better than anyone how important is the meaning of such a symbol. Should the fallen Queen manage to recapture it, she could rally the Swarm once more. The doubtlessly petty bickering our enemy is doing on one another would end. And united, they would pose a threat once more. The Emperor has thus formed the Second Reserve to prevent this from happening. We will be on the very opposite hemisphere from your '_Harkonnen_' installation is currently standing. There, we will accelerate the purging process and we will make this planet the most secure from the Zerg in the whole Koprulu Sector."

"And what will prevent Kerrigan from moving her 'throne' to somewhere else, Maddox?", Warfield asked, stressed.

"Clearly, Kerrigan's said 'generals' would not value the new throne, so much as they'd value Char.", Maddox said, mocking. "This world has been their residence since the Brood War. It's almost as if it were their _homeworld._ So, they won't value anywhere else but here, and thus they won't reunite so easily as they would if this planet would be reclaimed. This is the extent of my orders, 'General' Warfield."

"And what of my orders, 'General'?", Warfield asked, bitterly, his old war face making.

"Fortunately, for you, these orders are of the more simple type.", Maddox answered back. "The first, obviously, concerns your men. Given that we were given so few, Emperor Mengsk 'requested' you transfer a third of your military assets to my disposal. They are to immediately pack up and reunite with us, on our way to the position where we'll establish our own fortress, codenamed Doom Hammer."

"_Why wasn't that a surprise?_", Warfield asked, disgusted. "You're lucky I got me some spares, Maddox."

"Well, it didn't seem you'd need them anytime sooner.", Maddox said. "Besides, even though you'll be shorter in men and equipment, I'm sure you'll get quite... _creative_ in your part of Operation Clean Sweep. Clearly your _almost decent_ capacity can easily say that. The second involves the said non-Terran asset you have currently in possession, the one you claim that granted your success in your incursion."

"_The Xel'Naga artifact?_", Warfield asked, surprised. "What the hell do you want with it?"

"The order, General, is to facilitate it's transfer aboard the Hercules-class transport from which I came from. Once within the transport, the artifact will be eventually transported to a Battlecruiser in orbit, which will then warp off this system and directly into the safety of Korhal."

"_Are you insane!?_", Warfield asked, livid. "Or, _better yet_, is Mengsk off his goddamn mind!? That thing is the only asset we have to averting a catastrophe! You take that off and we'll be practically _naked_ before those Zerg!"

"That artifact, as you may have seen, General, is one of the most powerful weapons under our disposal.", Maddox said. "Letting it stay here, as you want so, is to risk losing the artifact, should the Zerg manage to reach it. We won't have that. The artifact will be much more safer in Korhal, where, obviously, we'll also have the chance to study it, and thus be able to reverse-engineer it and weaponize it in Terran standards."

"And what of the Zerg, Maddox?", Warfield asked, angry. "If Kerrigan's here, as you may presume, she might realize the artifact isn't here anymore! And when she does, I'll ask you, _how the hell we're all supposed to deal with her!?_"

"As I stated, General, we trust you'll get quite creative.", Maddox answered, indifferent. "_Surely you're capable of creativity, are you not?_"

"But what you're proposing, you bastard, is way off the limit!", Warfield exclaimed. "Take the artifact away and you'll be slitting-"

"_The decision is final, General!_", Maddox interrupted, raising his tone. "Emperor Mengsk has decided so. These orders are expected to be obeyed by the _very letter_. And should you disobey... Not only you, but _your men_, here, will be considered enemies of the State, and will be immediately be fired upon on sight and executed without a trial, even if they surrendered!"

Warfield opened his eyes in shock and disbelief.

"_You wouldn't dare!_", Warfield exclaimed.

"By the Emperor's grace and authority, I bullshit you not, Warfield, I _certainly_ would dare!", Maddox exclaimed, firmly. "I strongly suggest you do not tempt my wrath, you'd certainly _regret_ it. And, as I informed, you are very fortunate you are in the Emperor's _good_ graces. And even if you try to run, I'll know, as will Emperor Mengsk. Desertion, after all, is as a grave capital crime as is treason. You will have a limit of roughly twenty-four hours for both orders to be carried out. Should you fail to accomplish... A 'reminder' will have to be sent, though I certainly won't _enjoy_ it. I trust I made myself clear... _General?_"

Warfield widened his eyes further, in disbelief. 'Generally' speaking, a reminder often meant something just a little bit more powerful and wider than the usual Siege Tank superheated tungsten shell. Maddox only smirked.

"I had no doubt you'd understand.", Maddox said. "Twenty-four hours, then. One third of your assets under me and the artifact on board the Battlecruiser, by then. You can begin within one hour, 'General', I'd wish to have a headstart. Dismissed."

Maddox then turned around to leave, his men following. Warfield simply stood there, still, by the courtyard, amidst the heavy movement.

"McGrudd, did you hear everything?", Warfield asked, suddenly.

"_That insolent son of a mother..._", McGrudd answered, disgusted, by the intercom. "You think he'd do it?"

"He seems like he's itching to.", Warfield answered back, angry.

"But that's bloody ridiculous, Horace!", McGrudd protested. "_Ridiculous and stupid!_ We can't just let the artifact out of here! That's a big goddamn mistake and, what's worse, _he knows it!_"

"Blame Mengsk, McGrudd.", Warfield answered, bitterly. "This Maddox is more of a courier as he's a lapdog. And what of the assignment? Still on hold?"

"People are briefed, General.", McGrudd answered. "They're just waiting for the when."

"One hour.", Warfield stated. "Ten minutes earlier, if you want."

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

It was never easy to look at a sight like that and not just put him out of his misery. At least, for Kerrigan, it never was, as she caught a sight of the infested Terran Colonel before her, Richter, as he was called. He'd just been standing there, for about an hour or two. His growth, on the gaps of what remained of his CMC-300 suits, his glowing eyes, to mention those twin claws in one arm and tentacles holding his C-14 on another, it all intimidated her a little bit. Yet his behavior in a more human way, standing there, breathing heavily, waiting for something to happen, despite his beastily, corrupted appearance, made her want to step in and want to talk, as there was no danger at all.

Kerrigan took a deep breathe as she stepped into the deep end of the chamber, also noticing more and more infested Marines staring at her. The dead personnel that Abathur had injected the hyper-evolutionary virus. They all stared at her with those glowing eyes, tentacles slithering of the visors, where their mouths should be. One or two, she noticed, still preserved their human mouths. She wanted to believe that they were friendly, but the way they stared at her, combined with those glowing eyes, somehow meant hostility. She carefully approached Richter, as he turned around to face her. She could notice his looks were weaker than those of the others. At the same time, it meant both sorrow, pain and tire. She swallowed dryly as he continued to look at him, somehow feeling some pity for the poor person. She knew what it meant. She experienced it. And she wished he didn't have to go through it too, were not for the information she needed.

"Can you hear me?", Kerrigan asked, carefully and trying to sound not so bossy.

Richter, however, emitted no sound at all. He just continued breathing.

"I came to know you recovered, that you can now speak.", Kerrigan continued. "Do you know where you are?"

Richter still remained quiet.

"Will you say anything?", Kerrigan asked, a pretty tense as well. "Look, I'm trying to be nice, alright? If it's something, look, I'm so sorry that I had to do... _this_, to you. I know how it must be, alright, I've been through it myself. But I need you."

Richter, however, said nothing. Kerrigan closed her eyes in defeat and let out a sigh as she turned around to leave.

"Why?"

The flanged, although numb voice was enough to make Kerrigan turn back to face him.

"Why what?", Kerrigan asked, trying to be cautious.

"Why did you do this... to me?", Richter said, slowly, although he could be heard more clearly.

"It's...", Kerrigan hesitated. "It's because I need you."

"Need me?", Richter asked, a bit dumbfound. "In what?"

"I need what you know.", Kerrigan answered. "About the Dominion. About the fortress they have. What do you know?"

"Why would I tell... you?", Richter asked, bitterly.

"I'm just asking you.", Kerrigan answered. "I'm not ordering. And I don't want to have to read your mind."

"No.", Richter said, in pain.

"Why not?", Kerrigan asked.

"You... will kill them.", Richter answered. "All of them."

"You know I have to, Colonel.", Kerrigan said, being careful.

"Why?", Richter asked.

"Because they serve him.", Kerrigan answered. "Even when they don't need to, they serve him._ Like you did._"

Richter growled in pain.

"You should have...", Richter started. "Left me there. _Dead._"

"I know, Colonel.", Kerrigan replied. "And I agree, but first I need the information. I swear, you just give me the information, and then I'll kill you. I'll end all this and you can finally rest in peace. Deal?"

Richter growled in pain again.

"You'll kill them.", Richter said. "I can't give them."

"_Dammit, Richter, I don't want to order you!_", Kerrigan exclaimed, tense. She then heard the other infested Terrans growl as well. She backed off a bit.

"Still the same...", Richter said. "Same Kerrigan."

"What do you mean, the same?", Kerrigan asked. "You mean _her_? I'm not her, anymore. I'm changed."

"You control Zerg.", Richter said. "You kill Dominion."

"_Because I have to._", Kerrigan replied. "But I'm not ordering you around, like she would. I'm not even reading your mind, as much I'd want to and this over with. I'm giving you a chance to end all this, too. All you have to is give me the info. I'm letting you choose."

Richter remained breathing, for a moment.

"So?", Kerrigan asked. "What will it be?"

"Please...", Richter said, weakily. "Leave me alone."

Kerrigan closed her eyes, frustrated. She let out a sigh.

"Alright.", Kerrigan said. "But I'll come back later. Will you want to talk, by then?"

Richter only remained silent for a moment.

"Listen, I'm trying to help, okay?", Kerrigan asked, more serious. "But you won't let me. You know what I have to do and what I need, but you won't give me. I'm trying to be nice, but it seems it won't budge with you. One thing I won't do is kill you until you give me the information, do you understand? You'll be there, just suffering more and more every day. You know you can't get back, not like this. In the end, the only one who loses is you."

_'Kerrigan, are you there?'_, Izsha suddenly called, in her mind. _'Could use your attention, for a second.'_

Kerrigan, angry at the interruption, rolled her eyes as she readily pressed her hand on the temple.

"_I'm busy here, Izsha._", Kerrigan answered back. "This better be important, I'm still not in the mood after recently!"

_'Listen, I know you're busy, you're still angry, and you probably don't want to work right now, but can we leave it for later and you get to the Nerve Center?'_, Izsha started, at the same time Kerrigan started talking. _'We got a small problem here.'_

"_Small problem?_", Kerrigan asked, dumbfounded. "What kind of small problem?"

_'Well, nothing much...'_, Izsha answered, casually. _'Just six Battlecruisers hovering by Warfield's fortress.'_

* * *

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. It seemed to drag as it happened. It seemed to drag forever as it would never end. Not just pain hurt her body. Truth too. The hard, cold truth, that was spout in her face. If Protoss could cry, she would weeping in complete, abject agony. On how she was alone. On how she was hurt.

_On the fact she'd die._

Lasarra had always known her sister had not cared much about her. So much that her ignorance or lack of care, at all, had always tormented her. What happened now, however, changed everything. Selendis had revealed herself to be _everything_ but her sister. So much that she was willing to slay her own flesh and blood, and she was so... _coldly_. She wanted to believe it was all a test. The hits the High Executor delivered her, the order to execute and even order Biblos and N'arkham to give a 'special' attention had destroyed those beliefs.

The last sign was what Biblos said. Not just what he said, but how he said it, too. Just like _she_ did. The voice. The voice that kept telling her to not give in. And she listened like a fool, saying it'd all be much worse unless she did not gave in and gave up. A thing Lasarra exactly followed, to the letter. How she cursed that voice. And how she cursed herself, for allowing herself to be fooled. A great mistake..._ And her final one._

Her weak state did not allow her to keep track of time. All she knew was that she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. Selendis could've. But she now finally revealed her true colors. Now, Lasarra was there, alone and silent. Not.

'_Do not give in._', the voice returned.

"Silence.", Lasarra immediately dismissed, in agony.

'_Please, allow me to-_.', the voice started,

"**SILENCE!**", Lasarra roared. "I have had _enough_, do you hear me? I do not wish to hear you, no longer! Just... _go from here!_"

'_I only wish to help, Lasarra._', the voice insisted.

"Help?", Lasarra asked, in agony. "_You fooled me!_"

'_I have never fooled you._', the voice defended itself.

"You told me to not give in, to not desist!", Lasarra exclaimed. "_Now look at me!_ I will die, and because I did what you told me!"

'_You will not die._'

"**LIAR!**", Lasarra roared again. "I will not play this game, no longer, do you hear me? _You were with them all this time, were you not?_"

'_I was with you, Lasarra._', the voice said. '_As I have always been._'

"_Play your game with another!_", Lasarra shouted. "That was how you planned with me, was it not? That is how you plan with _all others_? As they torture, shortly after you appear, so serene and benevolent, all just to deliver a faint impression of hope!? **ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!**"

'_I plan nothing._', the voice said. '_I deliver no hope. I know what I know. You will not die._'

"Stop lying to me, for Adun's sake!", Lasarra begged, anguished.

'_Do not give in, Lasa-_', the voice insisted before it was interrupted.

"_Enough, do you hear me!?_", Lasarra roared. "ENOUGH! **NO MORE!**"

'_Lasarra, please, listen to me-_', the voice attempted to speak.

"**NO MORE!**", Lasarra roared. "**NO MORE!**"

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard across the chamber, coming from the shell-shaped door itself.

"**SILENCE!**", spoke a male voice outside. It belonged, no doubt, to the Zealot standing guard. "Control yourself, or, Tassadar forgive me, you will suffer more than you already did!"

As the bang and the Zealot roar had ceased, Lasarra noticed that silence had resumed it's dominance of the chamber. Lasarra closed her eyes in relief that she could be left alone during her final hours, with her pain.

"What happened, Uldain?", Lasarra heard another voice, also outside the chamber. She recognized it as Biblos'.

"She started to roar non-sense.", the other Zealot, Uldain, answered. "It seemed like if she was talking to someone."

"Has someone visited her?", Biblos asked back.

"No, I would have noticed.", Uldain answered.

"Then let her roar, Zealot.", Biblos said, coldly. "Let her urge her last words before we carry out the execution. Open the chamber."

The shell-shaped door of the chamber opened again, as Biblos stepped inside, along with N'arkham. Lasarra only stared at both as they stared back at her. Behind them, the door closed.

"It is done, female.", Biblos said, coldly. "The High Executor has the execution order prepared. I, however, am not so cruel. I am giving you one final opportunity. It will not spare you, nor release you. But it will _alleviate_ your consciousness before you are slain."

Lasarra only looked down, to the floor.

"Will you not say anything?", Biblos asked, indifferent. "Does this mean you simply _accepted_ it?"

Lasarra only looked down, still remaining silent.

"_Very well._", Biblos said, coldly, staring then at N'arkham. "Take her out of this chamber. Prepare her for the execution."

"Please.", Lasarra suddenly said, making N'arkham stop when he started to move.

Biblos only stared at Lasarra for a moment.

"What did you say?", Biblos asked, walking close to her.

"Please...", Lasarra started, in pain. "_Here._"

"Here, what?", Biblos asked, bitterly.

"Here.", Lasarra repeated. "Kill me... here."

Biblos only stared at her for a moment.

"_And why should I grant you your request, prisoner?_", Biblos asked, coldly.

Lasarra closed her eyes.

"Her.", she answered, anguished.

"Her, whom?", Biblos asked, mocking a bit. "The High Executor?"

Lasarra nodded.

"You do not wish to die _in front of her_, you mean?", Biblos asked, coldly. "So you fear death, no longer? As long as it is here, to not hand her the satisfaction?"

"Yes.", Lasarra said, fearful, staring at the Zealot.

Biblos only stared at her for a moment, as well, in her very eyes. Her look was of begging while his look was cold and harsh.

"Very well.", Biblos finished, coldly, as he then stared at N'arkham again. "You know what to do, then."

Biblos then turned around to leave the cell. The shell door opened to allow him passage, then closed after he passed. Lasarra only looked down, to the ground, as she's seen N'arkham's shadow denote he circled her to get behind her.

"I would ask you to hold still, but it shan't be a problem for you, shall be?", she heard a dark, calm voice behind, that she knew it belonged to her executioner. Lasarra said nothing, nor moved an inch.

"Well, then.", N'arkham said, before a sound of flashing energy was heard behind her. Her three hearts began to beat rapidly.

Lasarra only closed her eyes, in preparation for what would come. She could hear the imminent sound of energy flowing and flying, as the Warp Blades were maneuvered.

She heard the energy hit something.

But it didn't hurt. It hurt _nothing_, at all. Mayhaps he was skilled in granting a quick, painless death.

But she then felt something fall. The weight of gravity pull something. It seemed like... _her hands._

She then opened her eyes, surprised, and looked at them to see the shackles that bound her. She could see the chains that held those chains, now broken. The extremities of the broken chains were boling hot, the metal steaming from the sudden, hot burst the Warp Blade cut through them.

"_What in the hell?_", Lasarra asked, weakily and dumbstruck, as a metal noise was heard. She then felt her feet free, but aching heavily and out of control. She felt gravity pull her down to the ground, her body too hurt and too weak to hold, as she fell to the floor in all fours. She could hear steps walk close to her.

"Can you lift yourself up?", N'arkham suddenly asked, though indifferent. Lasarra clearly could not get on her feet, her body already straining to prevent it from collapsing. The state her body was shaking from the effort could clearly be seen. "As I thought.", he concluded, as he got down on the ground to pick up Lasarra. He rested her on his shoulder before starting to walk out of the chamber, the shell doors opening as Lasarra could feel the light surging stronger on her.

Both her and N'arkham then stepped into the corridor, where she could see the sphere-shaped chambers alike the one she was being held. She was gradually falling down by the moment as N'arkham carefully walked her to the left side, where they could see Protoss crewmembers standing by ship displays, as if they were computers of some sort. Some of these members saw Lasarra's weak, wounded face as she was being carried across, N'arkham turning right by an intersection, entering a corridor. The corridor was all golden-plated with blue details, on curved walls, ceiling and floor. They walked a bit forward to see Protoss crewmembers walking normally, as well as a small Sentry floating a bit foward ahead. They passed by a viewing window, where Lasarra could see what was beyond it. A curtain of stars with a white-blue nebulae.

This made her realize she was not on Shakuras. She had never been since she left, at all.

But then N'arkham turned left, where he walked, carrying her towards a golden-plated door, with a blue jewel in the center, that opened in three parts automatically as both approached, revealing the room on the other side. The room, more of a more spacious chamber, and more well illuminated, was circular and riddled with stasis chambers by the walls, along with displays as well as a pad of some sort in the deep extremity of the chamber. The ceiling had a sun-shaped dome of a sort, filled with lightning and a stalactite-like lamp hanging, with a crystal floating. The center of the chamber, by the floor, had a circular table of a sort, with a half-arc where a lamp could be seen. The chamber was not empty, as there were two Protoss crewmembers working on the stasis tubes and three staring at the pair, greeting them. Two of those whom were waiting walked up close, getting Lasarra as they took her and rested her back by the supposed operating table.

"You know what to do.", N'arkham said, nearby as she could feel her eyes passing out, her resolve already too weak. She could see the Zer'atai walk up close as he looked at her, by the table.

"Listen well.", N'arkham said, calmly. "Tomorrow, you will be more rested, and more recovered. You will receive your garments and armor pieces from before, so you can wear them back. You will notice some more additions it. Do not forget to wear those as well, when you appear, tomorrow."

She closed her eyes and could feel herself falling deeper and deeper into unconsciousness as she felt something touch her left hand.

"Consider yourself welcomed, Initiate."

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

For those whom read through all the Daelaam Ark scenes, I'm sure you now understand what I meant, when I warned you up there. Those whom didn't, I'm afraid you wouldn't understand. But you can all allow me to explain, if you want. If, otherwise, you want to immediately drop out, flame me, stop following me and/or report the abuse, I won't blame you. I screwed up this bad.

Many times often, my aims for realism, coherence and a solid story become so large, so present, especially before something badly planned and awfully executed, that they mix, explode and, even though making it for the right reasons, turn me into an incoherent, unrealistic, cruel writer. I write for something right, but there are times, unfortunately, we realists must give up and say to ourselves: This will have to be too soft, too fantasious, too out of place, too out of reality, without any sense. May we lose, but we'll lose with our heads straight.

I don't recall exactly in what moment, other than what happened to Lasarra, did I got out of my writing style and try to assimilate realistic side of things, like George R.R. Martin and Christopher Nolan do (Which, inevitably, I feel, you'll compare a lot, as well as the_ V for Vendetta_-like ending of it.), all to try and get attention and more readers with something so controversial, so out of place and so wrong and abusive as was Lasarra's initiation as a Zealot. As a matter of fact, when I started writing this FanFic, I don't know in what moment, exactly, did I came to care with higher numbers and statistics. But the truth came down when I sent a draft of this to one of my friends outside of and he got hard on him, on that I got too brutal, too insensible, especially to one of the female gender, even though she was supposed to be stronger in will.

I'm no feminist, never was, but I came to realize how much wrong I was with my adamant views, trying to alter and do it different than what Blizzard set it when I read Why We Fight, the story arc that depicted the training of the basic Marine, Zergling and Zealot and when they're deployed into battle. I've read this and the previous chapter and now I see how stupid I was, not by torturing one whom already suffered too much in the official HotS story and trying to go more harder than what a comic book story stated, for being too soft, but in freaking giving a shit about it.

I screwed up, and I did it _real bad_ and _big time_. I know I just did. But I did it in only two aspects, with you writers, as I betrayed your trust, and with myself, as I fooled myself into thinking I could do something better. The purpose of this Fanfic, which is to try and give something better than what Metzen did for HotS, continues strong and I'm adamant and committed to this work.

I was wrong for having strayed away from own principles, even if just in two chapters, in one arc. And I'm wrong for having spewed a thing so much stupid and so much wrong, that were those tortures, all up on you, people, you whom helped me out along the way and put up very good reviews, even in my worst moments possible, like ripping off movie one-liners, like it happened on the sixth chapter, 'The Puppet Queen'.

The greatest difference between a good writer and lousy writer is not just quality, quantity, descriptions and other technical stuff. The greatest difference is also in the time of getting himself back on track, in the moral sense. A lousy writer loses his notions and continues to trace the abyss which he's dragged into, with no one but himself seeing only right and no wrong in that track. A good writer accepts he screwed up, takes the flak and forces himself back on track. That's what I'm doing, right now.

With or without approval, loss or no loss, you'll know what to expect out of this FanFic, because I'll still be here, writing openly and consistently, trying to deliver a sense of immersion as well as an easy-to-understand dialogue that's neither cheesy or boring, but just right. An immersion very few can deliver, but that becomes everything to someone, not something to everyone (Thanks, Taffer.).

But never, ever again, I'll try something stupid like that, deliberate torture of a character, to try and increase ratings. I'll only write what I have to, because it's needed for the story and nothing more. I don't need anything else than what I have already won. You. People to read to, the commments and reviews, the suggestions, the people willing to follow because they liked the story, the care you display for this Fic is everything a simple storyteller like myself would ever want or deserve. And that's why I regret myself, and I tell you I'm sorry. And I screwed up bad.

Until next week then. Review, comment, flame on me, I'll understand. But I only ask, those who've read this, that pull this explanation to your very lives. Raising numbers is easy. What's really hard is to write something great.

Write greatly.


	18. Chapter XVI - Sad Tales

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XVI - SAD TALES**

* * *

**GENERAL HORACE WARFIELD'S OFFICE, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER**  
**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _HARKONNEN_**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

He'd been standing like that, on his feet, even within his CMC-300, inside the practically sparse rectangular room that he called his office, walking from one point to another, still a bit shaken from the orders that were delivered to him. He'd been waiting for the person he called for to arrive, the said best amongst the Ghost unit he commanded on Char, brought by the Crown Prince, despite the fact Jim Raynor's equally criminal associates, the Spectres, had pulled out the weight quite decently, particularly on the battle to neutralize the orbital platform that housed a considerable amount of Zerg aerial forces.

The office, covered in metal everywhere, like everything else inside fabricated Terran installations, had nothing much to truly distinguish it from any other General's office. There was only a desk with a laptop computer and the file containing the reports of the day, supported by an office chair he could only use outside his suit. Horace Warfield, however, didn't give much of a damn to that, as too much was happening within that week to worry about whether he was in his suit or not. Fluorescent light kept the room lightened, even from outside, from the rectangular viewing window close by the automated access door. In a corner of the room, a pole hanging the red banner of the Terran Dominion stood by, motionless. Behind the chair stood a viewing window that'd allow him to look more safely to the unforgiving landscape of Char, with controlled weather and services nearby, like water and meals directly from the mess hall that he ordered be delivered directly to his desk. He rarely utilized the office, most of the time doing his work by the Command Room. That office, he used to say, was only used when convenient, especially to sign those damn files, or when absolutely necessary.

The latter was pretty much the reason he stood there, waiting, on his feet. The meeting, by necessity, had to be a private one. The assignment, in fact, had to be too private to be ever filed amongst the many other assignments the Dominion undertook at the long road of the Second Great War. It had to be private because it involved something just too peculiar for the standard assignments. And too forbidden and wrong too.

A beeping noise was heard as the automated door slid aside, revealing the person that he wanted to speak to. A Ghost, wearing his trademark environment suit, with a backpack behind, though his headwear with the mask and his C-10 Canister Rifle, or even the smaller C-20A, were nowhere to be seen. He was a Caucasian redhead male, his hair short as to allow him to wear the headwear mask without much trouble. He had green eyes that looked and saluted at the General as he stepped into his office, the General stopping and turning to face him.

"You wanted to see me, sir?", the Ghost asked, the door closing behind him.

"Denver.", Warfield said the Ghost's name, or codename, whatever it was, as the Ghost approached and then stopped at a safer range. "I called you here because what I'm about to brief you is of the highest importance, but also requires the highest secrecy possible. Before I continue, I must be certain that you'll be quiet and deny full knowledge of this assignment, even if in torture. Either you agree or I'll just pick someone else who can keep his mouth shut."

Denver simply stared at Warfield, knowing what, 'Generally', this meant.

"Is it important, General?", Denver asked. "Deadly?"

"There's a high chance you'll get caught.", Warfield answered. "Hence the question. So if you want to forfeit, it's your one and only opportunity."

Denver remained silent for a moment. "Go on, sir.", he said, after some time. Warfield closed his eyes in relief, that he had someone he could trust, and opened them again, though still deadly serious.

"You're well aware that, despite our current strength, we're still quite vulnerable, Denver.", Warfield started. "We always are concerning those Zerg, especially here, on Char. And now, with Kerrigan at large, she might be rallying something to retake this place, she might not, no one knows. But we know that, should she be rallying the Zerg, the only thing that can keep us from falling down quickly is the Xel'Naga artifact. But now, General Maddox' arrival has brought in a serious problem."

"And it's related to the artifact, I presume?", Denver asked.

"He and Mengsk want the thing out of here.", Warfield answered.

"Out of _Harkonnen_, sir?", Denver asked.

"Out of Char.", Warfield answered. "They want it in Korhal, where they say it's safe and where they can 'weaponize' it."

"Considering, in a certain point of view, it's reasonable, sir.", Denver said. "They're trying to protect what may be the most important weapon in the coming months."

"I agree, Denver.", Warfield said. "But I'll be damned if I allow the alien trinket out of here while our operations aren't in a bright shape. We know we can't keep it forever, but I won't sacrifice more men than I need to fighting a battle we might not be able to win without the artifact. The great bitch of it is that both Maddox and Mengsk want the artifact out in roughly twenty-four, or else we'll get a _reminder_. You can now see why I summoned you here."

"Yes, sir.", Denver answered. "I believe I do. But how?"

"We can't just sabotage or delay something here, on the surface, Denver.", Warfield answered. "Maddox will be sure we did it. We'll have to do it on the Battlecruiser that'll take the artifact away."

"Engines and Warp Core?", Denver asked.

"And, most importantly, _leave no clues._", Warfield said, pointing his index finger upwards, in warning. "You have to make it sound like an accident. We need more time until we've dealt with the issues here, and you must buy it to us. If you're caught, we'll deny any involvement and I'll presume you went rogue, acting off duty and unordered at all. Is that clear?"

"Crystal.", Denver answered. "When do I start and how?"

"There'll be a Dropship carrying the small scientist team Valerian brought along.", Warfield answered. "They'll head to the Battlecruiser, _Marathon_, according to the file, to prepare the containment field in that'll keep the artifact safe. This will be your ticket to the ship. Remain cloaked at all times, ensure your cloaking device is rested and fully charged. Dropship leaves in three hours."

"Understood, sir.", Denver asked. "I'll be preparing myself."

"Good.", Warfield said, as Denver turned around to leave. "And, Denver...", he called, making the Ghost stop and turn around. "Know you're carrying the lives of many men at your back, now. Husbands, fathers, brothers and sons. Not to mention those whom shed blood and died to bring us to this point. They can't just be let down and we won't let'em. Make sure of that. Dismissed and good luck, Denver. I fear we might need it in the coming days. Go."

Denver then turned around again, as the office's door opened, and he crossed it. Shortly after, the door closed again. Warfield let out a sigh, in anxiety, as he closed his eyes and his battered old face started to mutter a silent prayer.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

She'd been keeping eyes on them for some time, as they floated above the Terran facility. A clear change of scenery, and one that usually meant bad news, especially in her position. She was forced to order away the aerial flyers and have every ground minion board in. She had the Leviathan remain quite awake and ready to take off at any moment, should they start opening fire. Which they still didn't. Though they couldn't possibly beat the Leviathan in an upfront confrontation, as it was clearly denoted in Phaeton, those Battlecruisers, she admitted, were quite imposing from a lower point of view. They had the advantage, since they could readily fire and damage the head of the creature, causing more trouble then what the Terrans would originally fathom.

Izsha then heard footsteps beating on the ground rashly as well as the flesh door opening. She didn't have to turn around to see Kerrigan moved in the moment she heard of the news. She didn't have even to move her head to see the expression Kerrigan was making the moment she saw the giant hammerhead shaped capital ships floating in the orange red sky and above the Terran stronghold.

"_Perfect._", Kerrigan deadpanned, letting out a sigh. "Just what we needed. And right when the ball's finally rolling..."

"If it's any consolation, they haven't attacked us, yet.", Izsha reassured. "And what's curious is that we're right at their striking range. It doesn't even seem like they're interested in us."

"Do you think they know I'm back?", Kerrigan asked. "There's been those couple of spotters you took out to a 'stroll', not to mention the mess in those caves..."

"Could be.", Izsha said, contemplative. "Could not. But they're at firing range and they haven't taken a _single_ shot. I'm noticing a lot of ships come up and down like flying elevators, though."

"They must be unloading first, then.", Kerrigan made an assumption. "I've seen Battlecruisers act as ferry boats in ground campaigns before. And if they're doing that, they're planning a ground assault."

"A ground assault? _Here?_", Izsha readily asked, sarcastically. "They can't be _that_ stupid. The terrain here is just too steep and cluttered with rocks to allow vehicles and walkers through anywhere around, even close. We'd also be out of their artillery range, in any direction. If they want to strike, they'll have to go with infantry, and even then it'd be in a narrow corridor. No, it's something else."

"Nuclear payloads, then?", Kerrigan asked, out of curiosity.

"My Overlords didn't pick any spotters close by, either.", Izsha answered.

"You have any eyes in the sky, by that stronghold?", Kerrigan asked again.

"I had to recall every one of them back.", Izsha answered. "I had to get ready for take-off the moment I saw those Battlecruisers close in. If anything happens and they decide to strike, I'll be ready, and then we can bring in the fight to them."

"Makes sense.", Kerrigan said, before a small, yet audible echo of giant rocket engines erupted right from where the Battlecruisers were. As Kerrigan and Izsha looked, they could see those capital ships slowly gathering more and more height, as they seemed to be ascending to orbit. They seemed like they were leaving. Besides them, Za'gara had walked in, and was witnessing the scene as well, yet said nothing.

"What... The... Hell?", Kerrigan muttered, dumbstruck, surprised and upset.

"_And you're asking me!?_", Izsha said, surprised, her eyes widening. "But, yeah, it doesn't make any sense, at all..."

"Perhaps it does, Izsha.", Za'gara finally spoke, as Kerrigan and the medusa-like Zerg then stared at her. Izsha, herself, shrugged her forehead. "Perhaps it is natural of Terrans, for they run as they greatly fear the wrath of the Swarm."

"No, sure as hell they're not chickening out.", Kerrigan replied, suspicious, looking upwards as the Battlecruisers were now more smaller up high. "There's something else going on, for those ships to only be ferrying troops and nothing more."

"It could be they acknowledge your wrath, my Queen, and thus they fear it.", Za'gara replied.

"Don't be stupid, Za'gara, if they knew I was here they'd have _hammered_ down on the mountain, already!", Kerrigan answered back, angry, as she looked at Za'gara. "Wonder why that show..."

"Well, we're not getting answers just looking from here.", Izsha said, looking at the stronghold. "Better get the aerials back up, since it doesn't seem like they'll attack anytime. Not now, at least."

"Better put an Overlord or two at the front entrance, to see what and how much they unloaded down there.", Kerrigan suggested.

"Oh,_ thank you for suggesting_, my Queen, I forgot, I'm almost a _melon-head_ concerning strategy!", Izsha ironically mocked, her eyes rolling. Kerrigan, as well as Za'gara, only stared at her. While Za'gara seemed natural, Kerrigan seemed like she didn't like that.

"_I didn't like that, Izsha._", Kerrigan said, dead serious. "I was just suggesting."

"Forgive me.", Izsha deadpanned. "I don't have that much tolerance for things just too obvious being hammered down my throat. Though, I think, they're not interested in attacking us, either..."

"But why would Terrans deploy more and more reinforcements than the necessary, and they are not intended to attack?", Za'gara asked. "Do they not have enough power with the Xel'Naga artifact?"

"That's a good question.", Kerrigan agreed. "And it'll just make harder the job of taking that base out..."

"That reminds me, have you got something out from that folk you infested, by the way?", Izsha asked. "You wanted him for the information, as I recall..."

"I got nothing.", Kerrigan answered, letting a sigh.

"_Nothing!?_", Izsha suddenly snapped. "You're kidding, right? What, his brain is too damaged to remind anything at all of Warfield's little daycare?"

"Not that, Izsha, it was him, he refused to say anything.", Kerrigan answered.

"_Refused?_", Izsha asked, dumbfounded. "That's absurd, infested don't refuse to obey or tell when they're ordered to!"

Kerrigan didn't say anything back, since. Izsha only looked at her.

"Unless... _you didn't order_, did you?", Izsha supposed, as Kerrigan only looked at the scenery. "_You asked him!?_ Please, tell me you didn't waste time doing that..."

Kerrigan then looked at Izsha, at her very eyes. It didn't take long before Izsha could easily assume the worst.

"Mind if I ask you something, Kerrigan? It's rethorical, but I want to ask.", Izsha said, fed up. "_What do you think you're doing!?_ Honest, what did you expect to gain from just asking him!?"

"You weren't there, Izsha.", Kerrigan asked. "You didn't hear what he said of me."

"What, that you were still the monster?", Izsha said. "Big deal! I didn't know you cared for the opinion of other people!"

"I do, Izsha!", Kerrigan said. "This is my life we're talking about!"

"This is _war_ we're talking about, little girl!", Izsha shouted back. "And we both know that, in love and war, all is fair!"

"Not everything, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, firmly. "There are rules, even in a war."

"And you'll follow them, even if they bring us trouble!?", Izsha asked, angry.

"Respectfully, my Queen, Izsha has a point.", Za'gara said.

"Did I let you in our conversation?", Kerrigan asked, angry, facing Za'gara. "Then shut it!"

"No, please, let her.", Izsha defended Za'gara. "Let her speak her mind."

"Just because she's _defending_ you?", Kerrigan asked, angry. "A first, even for you?"

"I do not say this for loyalty to Izsha, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "I say this for a matter of necessity. I only know as much of the Terran fortifications on the Dauntless Plateau as you do, my Queen. The Terran you speak of has the information, and it is clear he will not deliver it, for loyalty to his fellow Terrans."

"I didn't say _why_ he refused, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, staring angry at Za'gara. "_You've been spying on me!?_"

"No, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "It is not necessary to spy on other Terrans to understand the obvious. You have taught us, in our inception, that Terrans always protect and fight for one another, when needed. The Terran Colonel's refusal to deliver the information is, clearly, for this very reason."

"Yeah, I know, it's noble, Za'gara...", Izsha said, ironically. "If at least it weren't that pathetic..."

"What's your point, Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, presuming the worst. "That I'll have to get that information by _force_?"

"You can choose not to, my Queen.", Za'gara asked. "But the time it may take before the Terran can say anything may be too long. The enemy will be more reinforced, by then. Unless you want the coming attack to suffer heavy losses, on our side, I am afraid you will have to control and order him."

"That'll just confirm what he wants, Za'gara, haven't you noticed?", Kerrigan asked. "That's all he wants, for me to become the monster!"

"_You are a monster already, Kerrigan!_", Izsha exclaimed. "You forgot what I said, before we arrived? They won't give a damn if you're changed or not, they just won't forget! Forgive, then!? Pfft, _forget it!_"

"There _are_ people who'll give a damn!", Kerrigan answered back.

"Who, your beloved Jimmy's friends, I presume?", Izsha asked, disdainfully. "Maybe, but they're _minority_ on the matter, aren't they?"

Kerrigan simply stared at Izsha. "Yeah, they are.", she answered, plainly. "That's why I'm trying. Like with Richter. If I can him to trust me, it'll be much better."

"Trust is not required of him, my Queen.", Za'gara replied. "Only his obedience, and his information."

"That's what you always think, Za'gara, every time you control infested Terrans?", Kerrigan asked. "Like those you controlled at the caves? How do you even manage to _sleep_, knowing what you're doing?"

"If you imply the concept of rest, my Queen, I do so as I always had, since birth.", Za'gara said. "I close my eyes and wait as my body rests."

"_I'm talking about regret, Za'gara._", Kerrigan said, tightening her eyes.

"I have no regret, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "I never had. I only do what is necessary, no more, no less. Regret is... unproductive."

"I'm impressed.", Izsha said, surprised. "_Now, I'm worried._ Whatever, but the point, Kerrigan, is that you're letting this conscience of yours get in the way of our business."

"At least I _have_ one, Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "And it seems I'm the _only_ Terran whom has a conscience, in this joint."

"Look, little girl, I'm not that much of heartless bitch like you were before, I get it.", Izsha dismissed. "But that's getting a little_ too_ far, for anyone's taste. Not to mention it's a freaking simple thing, a simple order. If you feel bad about it, you can apologize later."

"It's never this simple, Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "With me, it never was."

"It is simple, Kerrigan.", Izsha corrected. "You mean it's not _easy_. There's a difference."

"The moment I raised my voice, they growled in anger back there.", Kerrigan tried to defend herself.

"Yeah, they usually do that.", Izsha commented, letting out a smirk. "But they don't bite. _Much._"

Kerrigan then turned around her back as she walked two steps, her head looking down.

"But... It's just... _wrong._", Kerrigan said.

"Wrong, in your Terran concept?", Za'gara asked. "Indeed, my Queen. Still, it is necessary."

"Easy for you to say that.", Kerrigan replied, bitter.

"Well, I bet a Protoss or two also whined on it when they were about to burn Mar Sara and Antiga.", Izsha said. "But they still did it, didn't they? Even the said 'saintest' of people have a skeleton or two up their closet. I thought you remembered, since even Mengsk had his own."

Kerrigan only took a deep breath as she then walked inside, a bit regretful of what she'd have to do. Izsha and Za'gara only stood there, watching. The halfling only let out a sigh.

"Now, there's this one more thing to worry about...", Izsha deadpanned.

"A puppet_ too difficult_ to control, is it, halfling?", Za'gara asked, disdainfully.

"What did I tell you when you first came in here?", Izsha asked, threatening. "To mind your manners, isn't it? Then you better show me some _respect_, too."

"I will.", Za'gara said. "But do not expect me to 'kiss your ass'."

Izsha snickered in mockery.

"How could you?", Izsha asked. "You don't even have_ lips_ for that, for all I know..."

* * *

**NEW CANAAN, TYRADOR IX**

Nova's very first impression of the said 'hotel' that served as a base of operations for New Canaan's local Ghost team was one of disgust and shameful pity. The five-story building, clearly a reminding of the old 20th Century third-world hotels, made of concrete, with poor lightning by the stairs and peeled green paint already old with time running by the cracked walls, was of a quality even Nova could not fathom. A new set of scales concerning the worst hellholes she's been would have to be made.

"_You're kidding me aren't you?_", Nova asked, deadpan, as she went up the concrete stairs, following Tremm, as the elevator was out of service. "I imagined we'd be somewhere simple, where we wouldn't call much attention, but this is _ridiculous._"

"Blame Mengsk.", Tremm answered. "Budget cuts and all that."

"That's not an excuse.", Nova commented.

"Hey, lady, what'd you expect, a five-star room, with a hot tub and a tux ready and available?", Tremm asked. "We're not British, you know."

"_And that's not funny._", Nova said.

Tremm then opened a door, probably by the third or fourth floor, as he then entered a corridor with doors, probably to the apartments other people rent per day. He walked forward until he reached the third door by the right. Nova followed all along, noticing these doors, like the rest of the building, were old, made of wood. The floor was wooden too, and seemingly not clean for some time, given the dust in the particularly awful tan carpet by the floor. There was some light, from the fluorescent cylinders by the ceiling, though those were weak, doubtlessly having to be replaced soon.

As Tremm opened the door, she came across the most unorganized and unclean living room, one very akin to those used by fraternity college boys, though those occupying it weren't students, but well-trained professionals. The room was painted white, though the paint was peeling off, and it was a mess, given the amount of ammunition and other equipment by the table in the center, and other equipment spread everywhere in the room. Above the table, too, was a laptop computer that was streaming data from Dominion Intelligence. The sofas the people inside sat upon were in complete rags, one of them extruding it's cotton material to the outside, by a corner. There wasn't any awful smell at the air, at least, but the room, in itself, definitely needed some _feminine_ touch, in terms of organization, or a decent professional military care.

Nova could see two persons by the room, both of them sit by each sofa. The first was a muscular bald African-American, by his thirties, while the other was an Asian-American male, with a haircut just too short for it to appear, even though it was black. The first was checking the ammunition clips for his C-20A while the other was looking at the laptop, a blade in his hand. Both noticed Nova coming inside with Tremm and looked at both. Both also wore the standard Ghost suit, although without the field armor, which they only used in operations.

"_Unbelievable..._", Nova muttered, minding her surroundings.

"Better believe it, that's what Paradise looks like.", the Asian-looking person with the blade said. "Welcome."

"Where's Drake?", Tremm asked, as he stepped besides Nova, to her right.

"Eliminating.", the African-American answered. "Should be out any second."

"Is this the crew?", Nova asked.

"What's left of it, anyways.", Tremm answered. "The other two, Sevron and Gavin, won't be joining us any longer, I'm afraid. These are Omar and Oni.", he added, gesturing at the African-American, then the Asian, respectively. "Omar is our point man, pea-shooter at times, Oni handles the computers."

That was hardly a surprise for Nova, given each one in a Ghost team had a specific function. Although each and every Ghost was trained in most techniques, like sniping or hacking computer systems, there were those whom had a more individual proficiency in each function, thus making them individual on that specific area. Therefore, the inclusion of each type of member was invaluable.

Then, Nova heard a whistle, to her right. She turned her head to see someone standing by the doorstand, doubtlessly leading to the bathroom. He was a Caucasian male, by his thirties, with a recently clean toned body, from his years of military training. He had a short black hair and brown eyes, and was wearing the same uniform as the others, without the armor pieces. He had a white towel in his hand, though, and his hair was wet with the shower water.

"So you're the 'Supernova' they told about?", the Caucasian Ghost asked, looking at the amazing sight before him. "Man, Mengsk can't do it more righter..."

"Don't bother, smart-ass.", Nova said, coldly. "We're not going on a date anytime soon. And, just so you know, I _hate_ that nickname."

"I'm just looking to impress, madam.", the Ghost replied, sounding innocent.

"You're Drake, I presume?", Nova asked.

"It's my codename.", Drake answered. "My real name is Quinn Albert. PI 7. Pyrokinetic."

"I worked with a pyro, before.", Nova commented, reminding of one of her colleagues in the Program. "Real useful at times. And the others?"

"PI 4.", Omar answered.

"PI 6.", Oni answered.

"Seven, too.", Tremm answered, behind her. "It's a first we got a high level with us, here."

"I suppose you were briefed on the nature of assignment and why I'm here?", Nova asked.

"We received the files, ma'am.", Oni answered. "Didn't expect Spectres to show up in this rear end of the galaxy. I mean, Tyrador ain't exactly a world that hurts the Dominion, so they wouldn't be interested, right?"

"That's the kind of ignorance that blew up our weapons plant in Nephor, and I won't even mention Valhalla.", Nova answered. "Where you don't think it hurts is where's painful the _most_."

"Doubt it, there's not much for the rebels to blow up, here.", Omar replied. "Apart from vitals, like water, electricity and such, there's only resorts and estates for rich folks here. Can't see something they'd be interested in destroying."

"They're not here to destroy, Omar, they're here to _build_.", Nova said. "Intel thinks Tosh is trying to make a second Spectre farm. That's why I'm here, and we already have a lead to follow."

"Someone important?", Drake asked.

"Lionel Brahe, gents.", Tremm answered.

"_The local mad doc?_", Drake asked, frowning, as he threw the towel somewhere. "He was the first guy we've been following these last months, out for something, but ended with zip. I mean, he doesn't do anything that scary or that draws attention."

"He _is_ doing.", Nova said, coldly. "And I haven't been here these last months. And now we're going on him, again."

"What for?", Oni asked. "He's clean, there's nothing on him."

"Intel doesn't think so.", Nova answered.

"Then they're making real bad calls, as of late.", Omar deadpanned, checking on his clip.

Nova didn't like that. As a response, her green eyes started glowing blue as she used her telekinesis to pick up the table with the ammunition and laptop and quickly slam into the ground. This was the wake-up call for Oni and Omar to get on their feet, jumpy and nervous.

"_What the hell!?_", Oni asked. "Are you kidding, that's some delicate and expensive equipment here!"

"_Does it look like I'm kidding?_", Nova asked, angry, as she dropped her file and cocked her C-20A. "I came here _strictly_ to work, and, I bullshit you not, I'm the _professional_ when it comes to work!", she added, as she started looking around. "Now listen to me, all of you. I don't know what the hell you've been doing around here and whatnot, and frankly, I don't care. But right now, you just got in the hunt for the most dangerous target you've ever tracked, seconded only by Jim Raynor and the Queen of Blades herself! And I'm going deep and I'm going hard on this, ALONE, if I _have_ to! Anyone willing to follow, I promise, he'll sweat, he'll have his very bones hurt by the end of day and he won't be liking this place anymore! So, if any of you is not up for any of this, or would like to step out and have yourselves put on proficiency report, now's a _very good time_ to hand up!"

Silence had dominated the room, since, every one of them just looking at her, her eyes flashing a deadly, killing look.

"Now, has anyone got a lead on Brahe, here, something to start with?", Nova asked, controlling herself, after a moment.

"Nothing.", Oni answered.

"Get working, then.", Nova answered. "I don't care what you get, I want to hear it before zero hours tonight."

"I'll have to dress up, get out and start checking on our informants.", Oni said.

"Start now, Oni.", Nova ordered. The Asian-looking Ghost then moved from off the sofa and proceeded to the small kitchen, to change his clothing.

"And what do we do, in the meanwhile?", Omar asked.

"For starters?", Nova asked, shrugging her forehead. "Straighten up this area, get it to be somewhere decent to sleep in. I'll unpack."

Nova then stepped aside, heading to the bathroom. Drake stepped aside to clear the way for her.

"Damn, she's a wild one.", Drake commented.

Then, Nova, appeared, aiming her C-20A and fired a shot. The hole where the bullet hit, however, was on a wall, but it flew too close for Drake and Tremm to even notice. They jumped as they looked into the bathroom doorstand, where Nova was there.

"_I'm your worst nightmare, too._", Nova said, coldly. "And, just so you want to know, Drake, I missed on _purpose_. I won't miss the next one."

Drake's eyes widened as she stepped in, a tiny stream of smoke still coming out of the C-20A. He then approached the table, where the ammunition clips and equipment were standing and he started to organize them, in a bit of a hurry, curiously.

* * *

**EXECUTOR'S QUARTERS, DAELAAM ARK**  
**CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

The screen of the hologram transmitter, by the curved table, flashed the image of the snowball planet named Kaldir, more of a moon orbiting a larger world, a probable gas giant. The image was being transmitted by Observers deployed to analyze the initial conditions of this world. From the warmth of the quarters where he looked at the image, Executor Raseac could read the temperatures of that world were far more colder than firstly anticipated, even for Protoss standards. Even more worrying were what the scholars first named the flash freezes, rapid wind snowstorms that dropped the planet's temperatures even _further_. A special weather shielding would have to be deployed, especially during these flash freezes, to prevent the extreme cold from posing danger to either warriors or equipment. He often wondered why would the Zerg choose this place, out of all worlds in the Koprulu Sector, to settle in, even at greater cost. Particularly the Brood Mother, the great Zerg being in command of that particular Brood that nested, far from the bickering conflict that riddled the Swarm, since the fall of the Queen of Blades. Still, the opportunity was ripe, as Admiral Urun back on Shakuras had spoken of. And an opportunity to weaken the Swarm was never an opportunity wasted, nor should be ignored, as the fools in the Hierarchy Assembly insisted to do so.

Given it was unknown how many Zerg currently inhabited the planet, they would need to go slowly and first establish a foothold, as well as Psionic Spires in the meanwhile, to attempt and establish contact with Shakuras, particularly the Auriga Tribe, those loyal to Urun. The Daelaam Ark would remain in orbit, to deliver reinforcement and, if necessary, fire support against aerial and ground threats, be they Zerg or the native creatures. Psionic Spires, contrary to those utilized by the Zerg as genetic libraries for their Mutalisks and other aerial strains, we taller tower-like structures meant for communication. Each Psi-Spire normally utilized three High Templar, whom concentrated their psionics in an effort to reach the world intended and amplify the power of the communications machine. When the foothold was established and a force established from the re-assembled Colossi, Immortals and other fearful Protoss war machines, the task would really then begin. When the task is carried out, then, then it was a matter of awaiting those forty days before they could return to Shakuras and relate the success to the Admiral.

However, Raseac also attempted to not remind much of the new pupil, nor the initiation she was, as of now, being forced to come through. Even for one not ever introduced to combat, he had to admit, Lasarra was quite a strong one. He only regretted she had to pass through that, like the remainder, for she was so willing to learn and train. Still, like it happened to the rest, he could not open an exception. The universe, as of late, was a dangerous, unforgiving place. And a Zealot, a Protoss warrior faithful to what _He Whom Brings Order_ had set, was meant for fighting everything and fearing nothing. Especially pain and death. Such as it was in the way of war. Lasarra would have to pass through the torture, but it'd only make her stronger. It'd make her a warrior worthy, even though the High Executor would never approve it. The difference was the intensity. The newborn, those who were early introduced, gradually developed their tolerance to pain, fighting skills and martial discipline. Those who'd volunteer, however, were forced into more of a _crash course_, as the young female did. Many times, those whom passed through that would break down and eventually desist, but those who resisted would eventually earn their place in the Templar caste. So would her, for now it was a matter of time before he could graduate her with due honors. That and of the one he trusted to initiate her.

His thoughts were interrupted as metal steps walked slowly past the entrance, belonging to footwear that belonged to the remainder of the Zealot armor he wore, standing before the Executor. He only looked at the Zealot before him, as he seemed to admire the space outside, by the viewing energy window.

"She passed, Executor.", Biblos said.

"As predicted.", Raseac said. "But I trust you have not _over-reacted_ on her."

"I have not.", Biblos answered. "She indeed seems more stronger than she first appears. She may be a warrior substantial, after all..."

"Then I can safely ask you to deliver me back the garments I have _lent_ you?", Raseac asked. "Why your obsession with hiding your true identity to Lasarra is sincerely unknown to me."

"Legitimacy is paramount, concerning such tests, Executor.", Biblos answered. "Even the smallest of details can make one see the false in an entire invented scenario. Such is the case with the garments. For even though she is not so familiar, any other would know one of my tribe simply does not perform interrogations."

"Truth told, Praetor. And, as for your inquiry of Lasarra being substantial, I prefer to believe she will be quite unique.", Raseac said. "One willing to fight often tends to be more_ dedicated_ than one destined. You were already set to become a Zealot since you first opened your eyes in this universe, as I presume?"

"I was, Executor.", Biblos said. "One of the few Sargas still living."

"Sargas, aye.", Raseac agreed. "A great tribe of warriors, even during the Aeon of Strife. It was from you that the initiation of Zealots was adopted, was it not?"

"Even though my tribe attempted to remain as detached from the Conclave as it could, the Judicator Caste had seen how our methods bred the most hardened of warriors.", Biblos explained. "Hence the Conclave still maintaining us as a tribe, though, of course, at the cost of a few favors."

"As I presumed.", Raseac said, contemplative. "Curiously, one of these said 'favors' involved our savior, Tassadar, did it not?"

"Only a few in our tribe had participated.", Biblos answered. "The connection our tribe had with the Nerazim had, somehow, _stayed_ our hand."

"Most of the Nerazim, by the ascension of Khas, were Sargas in root, were they not?", Raseac asked.

"Aye.", Biblos answered, nodding his head. "But why such curiosity with my tribe, Executor?"

"I am admirer of warriors, Preator.", Raseac answered. "'Tis you whom carve the path to victory in a battle, whereas the others take the rightful fruit. Like myself, when all I do is naught but planning. We, particularly of the Auriga, have rarely savored the taste of battle in the ground."

"You do battle, nonetheless.", Biblos said. "Yet, you do so from the comfort and security of the vessels you have constructed."

"We never always remained inside our vessels, we assure you.", Raseac said. "Though this, too, only occurred one time."

"When this happened, Executor?", Biblos asked.

"At the very Aeon of Strife.", Raseac said. "At least, this was, according to what my master once told me. He lived by that age as a young navigator aboard one of the vessels. The vessel he piloted, by the twentieth sun-turn following the departure of the Xel'Naga, had encountered a force of Akilae warriors, in the lush province of Anaria. Being as _unrelenting_ as they were, they had intercepted the vessel, and brought it down to the ground. The few ship guards surviving had then faced the Akilae. My master had seen the fierce fighting they had put, so few against a force that could clearly subdue them. They were indeed subdued, but not before the Akilae lost twelve warriors that day. Twelve Akilae whom had fallen to a force of shipwrights and navigators, on the very ground where they kept the dominance. The tutor and the remainder attempted to flee to the nearby river, but were intercepted and captured. My master was with them. He could hear the discussion the local leader of the settlement where he was taken to and the warrior leading the force that attacked his vessel arguing. He said he was fortunate the gods were with him, that day. For the Auriga had also raided an Akilae settlement, taking prisoners as well. Amongst one of them was the young son of the tribal leader. Three hundred Aurigan prisoners were necessary before the son of the tribal leader was returned. My master was amongst these three hundred. He was chosen, by those whom survived the crash, to tell the story of the ship guards' bravery."

Biblos only listened to the Executor's tale with a cryptic expression over him. "Admirable.", he said, coldly. "Though, as I can remember, the Aeon of Strife was one age of utmost _brutality._"

"Indeed.", Raseac said. "That is why my master said he had learned, days afterwards, how the tribal leader's son had returned. The head was first sent, and more followed with the passing of days. For every piece sent, there was an increasing sense of anger rising within the Akilae leader. In the end, when the final piece was sent, he ordered a full assault against the might of the Akilae vessels. Four hundred and fifty-three Akilae destroyed, before the leader fell and the tribe was forced to retreat. A great celebration erupted from our settlement, as now there was one who could defy the might of the most feared tribe at the Aeon of Strife. Or so those Aurigan, back then, have thought, in the following days. For the successor to the tribal leader, Ghoran, was no fool, nor taken by emotion as his predecessor had. He came to know we had the mighty weapons and ships we developed on our side, and thus he knew that fire had to be fought with fire. It was when he sought the leader of the Furinax. Ghoran was aware of the bloodthirsty rivalry that erupted between Furinax and Shelak, and aimed to take advantage of it. One he found with the fall of his predecessor, whom never allowed such alliance. Ghoran offered the aid to the Furinax, in fighting the Shelak Tribe, in exchange for war machines that he took to our primary settlement, one week afterwards. The confrontation took one day and a half. Our people was forced to flee and settle in another place. Our fleet was burnt to ashes, as our settlement was lit ablaze by Ghoran's servants. Those he captured, he showed no mercy. Tales deep in the lost library of Aiur still told of how _slow_ the prisoners were dismembered, a song of screams that lasted a week. Ghoran ordered the heads to be cut off last, as to greatly torment our ancestors. It was when the traditional saying of war was born.

"It begins with pain, it ends with sorrow.", Biblos recited.

"He sent the pieces to all and every tribe across the planet, a message to all those whom dared to challenge the power of the Akilae.", Raseac concluded. "By then, the Auriga Tribe had not faced the Akilae again, too concerned to rebuild itself after the massive casualties that followed. Eight hundred souls, not to mention the two hundred lost in our fleet. The Akilae, themselves, had started their campaign against the Shelak, by then, along with the Furinax. It was, in that time, that a youngling named Savassan was maturing, as, a few generations later, he would prepare to depart his tribe and start the journey that would ultimately lead to the founding of the Khala, the end of the Strife and the unification of our people."

Biblos simply stood there, contemplative. "A sad tale.", he said. "Perhaps I may you mine, on one day, Executor."

"I would be glad to hear it, Preator.", Raseac answered. "Though, unfortunately, not now. There is a great deal of work ahead of us, by tomorrow. I have a new foothold to settle and oversee, and you must prepare our warriors. In particular, our newest addition."

"As it must be.", Biblos agreed. "_En Taro Tassadar, Raseac._"

"_Und lara khar, Biblos._", Raseac ended, as Biblos stepped backwards, then turned to leave the quarters.

* * *

**PRIVATE QUARTERS 14, WHITE STAR**  
**OCCUPIED BY ELGIN MCCOWLER**

It had been over sixteen hours since he stood by that very chair, on that desk, operating his modified computer as it wormed it's way past security shielding the Dominion network. Code after code was being typed and processed, as, in the meantime, Elgin McCowler took another sip of the coffee cup he rested by the desk top. The room around him was a mess and McCowler reeked with the lack of shower, but that wasn't his primary concern. Both things could be arranged later. His boss would see to that, once he delivered something. Still, it was a bit complicated to have something, given he was having trouble circling around a high-level firewall, shielding the highest level of Dominion information, that usually contained secret information as well as details of black ops and operations thought to be canceled, but still in progress. One such case was Project Shadowblade, the converting of Ghosts to a more advanced, powerful type of soldier called Spectre.

McCowler continued typing on, noticing steps walking across the corridor, on the other side of the door. Maybe it was Hardscape, maybe not. He didn't care as he continued typing, humming a song his mother taught him during childhood. A barrier had just come through by the computer. McCowler started to type in a backdoor command as, suddenly, the screen went black.

"Dem' hell?", McCowler asked, upset. "No again!", he roared in frustration.

It was the third time that this had happened to him. He was already forced to restart his computer and start working from scratch, time and again, and he didn't know how this was happening. Either it was something new that the Dominion security put up or there was someone on the other side whom wasn't that much of a fool. He let out a defeated sigh as he proceeded to press the computer's reset button again when he heard a bleep and something came up in the monitor. A green text.

_ U R a real persistent 1, R-ent u?_

McCowler widened his eyes in anger and shock. As he suspected, there was someone whom've been tracking him. He saw there was a dialog line open, so he decided to type on it.

**USER: Who R U?**

A little while passed before an answer came.

_Don't U have no parents? Haven't they taught U snooping around is a bad thing?_

**USER: U didn't answer my question.**

_Answer mine first._

Dumbstruck and upset, McCowler didn't understood the game this person was playing.

**USER: Y, I did have parents. But that's not Ur business, is it?**

_Neither's the Dominion Net Ur hacking. What R U after in the highest level?_

**USER: Like if I was going 2 tell U!**

_U should, if U want me 2 make it ez._

**USER: Don't be stupid, there's no ez when Ur caught.**

_There is, 'coz I want 2 help U._

McCowler simply stood there, dumbstruck. There was something clearly wrong, to simply offer help, even knowing he'd deny.

**USER: Ur lying.**

_Could B. But I'm not. Scratch my back and I'll scratch urs._

**USER: Y would I tell U?**

_U don't have 2. But, then, I can't help U._

**USER: What assurances U have?**

_None. But I can deliver._

**USER: Too risky. Don't trust U.**

_U don't have 2. It's a leap of faith. U either do it or don't._

McCowler stopped there, considering the option given to him.

**USER: Y? Y helping me?**

_Oh, let's say I have a thing or 2 against the law, 2._

**USER: U a rebel?**

_Y bothering to ask, Elgin McCowler, thirty-five years old, born in Meinhoff, currently boarding the White Star, notable Irish traits, expert in computer programming?_

McCowler widened his eyes. How the hell did this guest know everything about him and he knew nothing, he couldn't tell.

**USER: WTF?**

_LOL, I knew U'd be upset. Happens. Also, nice rep sheet U got, trying to hack three Morian banks. Good try, but I'd aim higher._

**USER: Ur a spy?**

_xD No, but I was, in old days. Now, I'm everywhere, and let's say I know everything. Now, U want my help or not?_

**USER: Depends. Who R U?**

_ROFL, I almost forgot. Well, for starters, you can call me by my old name._

**USER: And that is?**

_Lio._

* * *

**HYPERION CANTINA**

"_One of the Princess' guard was here!?_", Carradine asked, pretty much upset and surprise, by a table in the corner of the Cantina. "I thought none of them were interested in this place!"

The Cantina, by the time Carradine returned, didn't have as much as people as before he left. Most had either returned to work or went to their quarters for some rest. He discovered his Morian had been thrown off as it got warm. Cooper was in the bar, scrubbing it as he considered his quota of the day met. Besides Hall and Carradine, whom were sharing ideas and how it went while both went their duties, Cade was having a shot as he watched the television mounted atop, showing the UNN special bulletin on revolts in fringe worlds and Tyrador IX.

"Well, this guy happened to pay a visit.", Hall answered, taking a sip of her Umojan mix. "Clumsy one, named Kelsey, just a young boy. He even excused and stuff. The real pain in the ass was his superior officer."

"How come?", Carradine asked, taking a sip of his drink too.

"The jerk said he didn't want Kelsey get 'contaminated' with us.", Hall said, fed up.

"_Contaminated?_", Carradine asked, upset. "The fekk he thinks we are, Zerg fungus or something?"

"Oh, I got mad too, Quentin.", Hall answered. "But you missed the real fun by the bridge, minutes ago."

"Pity.", Carradine said, smirking. "Hurt eye make-up suits him well. But he saved our asses with some style, I'll give you that."

"That's not funny.", Hall answered. "Because of his antics, Valerian will have a lot of trouble answering the folks in Haven tomorrow. They found out about us and our... _guests._"

"Was bound to, anyways.", Carradine said. "I'm just a lil' more worried with the Protoss. I don't think they'll like the decor we've made on their outpost."

"We all are.", Hall said, taking a sip. "Especially Horner. One more worry to add to the list. What the hell did Valerian have on his head, to do a stunt like that?"

"Obviously some lard on his head, by the idea.", Carradine answered, dimissively.

"Funny, you people talking bad of him.", a voice came in from behind Carradine, as a massive figure stood close by, in a CMC-300 armor. The armor was red-clad as the figure inside was an African-American. "I'd appreciate him for saving your pale behinds."

"Yeah, I do, Rammer.", Carradine answered. "Just didn't thought he loved _hammering_ down his answers."

"It's Reamer, brother.", Reamer replied. "And I wouldn't do any more better, like he did."

"Like he did?", Carradine scoffed, snickering. "He just mouths an order out and you say he did better?"

"Sure so, man.", Reamer answered. "He commanded the whole op."

Carradine, whom was taking a sip, suddenly spilled out his drink, almost coughing and choking. Hall widened her eyes, dumbstruck and intrigued.

"What?", Carradine said, trying to recover, also surprised. "Commanded? _The Princey?_"

"From start, brother.", Reamer said, chuckling. "Planning, picking equipment, choosing artillery and where to land and stuff..."

"_You're bullshitting, aren't you?_", Hall said, jokingly, as she took a sip. Reamer didn't answer nothing, but just shrugging his forehead. "Serious, you're bullshitting, right!?"

"A-fraid not.", Reamer answered. "Blondie's a box full of surprises, as you can notice."

"Man, this just can't _compute._", Carradine said, doubting the Dominion Sergeant's words. "_Commanding the mission?_ Really? He doesn't seem like he can fire a gun."

"Heard a tale he fired an Impaler once.", Reamer answered, as Carradine stared at the Sergeant, immediately setting his glass on the table, eyes widening. "Just hearsay, I believe, I was at a reserve in Chau Sara at the time, but they say he unleashed a burst on some 'Fed remainders back on 'Moja."

"I'd believe it if it was in self-defense.", Hall commented. "Being Arcturus' son and all that, he'd need to have some lessons on it."

"Yeah, I think so.", Reamer commented. "But he told me he always had studied such, as well as learned combat with a master of his, some Japanese guy with a name too complicated to remember. The folk gave his life to let Valerian run, when the 'Feds caught up."

"But he _really_ fired a C-14?", Carradine asked. "And how he handled the recoil of the damn thing?"

Carradine's question made some sense, as it concerned both the weight of the weapon, which was three times the weight of a normal rifle, as well as the physics the considerably strong recoil had effect on the person, particularly if there was no CMC-300 or similar combat suit to handle both. Both attributes made the weapon a bit difficult to aim as well, not only due to weight, but because when the burst started, even a short, controlled one, the responsible would lose aiming and balance, as the rifle would either go up or the side the poor fellow decided to gift his shoulder with the rifle, unless he was physically prepared and was aware of the consequences.

"Funny.", Reamer said, frowning. "He never told me that."

Suddenly a loud, long klaxon was heard across the Cantina. The klaxon reminded more of a horn, actually, as the television was shut down and the jukebox, that was playing 'A Zerg, A Shotgun and You', stopped playing. A yellow light slowly erupted and then left.

"We're closing now, people.", Cooper shouted out loud, when the klaxon stopped. "Don't forget your belongings, or you'll get'em tomorrow. And I won't be held responsible if you lost anything, children."

"Okay, mommy, I'm going!", Carradine said, taking a final sip off his drink as he rested the glass on the table and got up the seat. "Dammit.", he added, calm. "If this only were twenty-four, seven..."

"_In your dreams, Carradine._", Cooper shouted, from afar. "Move along."

Hill followed, getting up from her seat, as her, Carradine and Reamer left the Cantina by the closest access door.

* * *

**BRIEFING ROOM, BATTLECRUISER '_VENGEANCE_'**  
**DYLARIAN SHIPYARDS**

Like in the majority of military installations and Command Centers, the Briefing Room of the_ Vengeance_ was set as a large square room, with fluorescent light cylinders illuminating it. Metal plating was everywhere as well, on the floor, walls and ceiling, the floor having a podium-like structure on it's frontal part, with a stand where either the Wing Commander or higher rank would deliver his briefing and speeches. Behind the podium, a large screen, where data could be transmitted to pilots and personnel in the seats, on the other side of the room. The seats were approximately fifty.

The briefing room was quite full, as well, with most fighter and frigate pilots, each of their respective squadrons, sitting and waiting for the briefing to begin. By the podium, Captain Lilith Daniels and her ever vigilant aide, Feud Thorne, stood on their feet, awaiting for the rest to arrive or for the deadline to expire. Whichever came first.

The door opened as Henderson and then Litvak stepped in, seeing the room before them. They could see the murmuring and anxiety of the people sit in there, talking quietly, as it was mandatory in the room. Looking behind, he could see Keitel simply there, looking forward to the podium, as her wing companions, Valsdottr and Yeats, were sitting by the two seats to her right, in the middle of the row. Henderson swallowed dry as he started looking for seats in other rows. He then noticed two empty seats right near him. He called Litvak to sit down on those seats and both did, resting comfortably as Henderson sighed in relief.

"What do you think you're doing?", a male voice called to his left and upwards. Henderson looked to the direction to see a tall, Caucasian blonde person standing with his colleague, an African-American pilot, like if they were waiting for Henderson and Litvak to leave. "This seat already has an owner, as you have yours."

"What?", Henderson asked, dumbstruck. "Are you saying-"

"These are pre-set seats, alright.", the pilot answered. "And, in case you try and play funny, everyone here knows your seat numbers, we've been told. Thirty-six and thirty-seven."

Henderson widened his eyes, as he quickly looked behind, seeing two vacant seats by Keitel's left. There, he supposed, lied the numbers said.

"You're kidding, right?", Henderson asked. "_Right by the psycho?_"

"Sure as fekk I'm not sitting by her side for you.", the pilot deadpanned. "Get up and go, or the Cap will notice."

Henderson took a heavy breath, stressed, as he got up the chair and started walking to the supposed chairs. Litvak followed suit, as the two pilots have sat down and feeling comfortable, due to the warmth their seats just acquired. As both walked, Litvak noticed Henderson's frustration.

"Calm down.", Litvak said, in a tone of warning.

"I _am_ calm!", Henderson exclaimed, though quietly.

"_Calm down!_", Litvak repeated, raising her tone and taking a heavy breath. By then, both had arrived at the same row Keitel and her squadron members were sitting, and, as the duo passed by, to reach their seating, Henderson noticed the different expressions on each one of three people. Yeats smirked a bit and nodded to Henderson, in an attempt to say hello. Valsdottr simply stared at him with killing eyes, in a warning, threatening sign. Keitel, could be easily said, remained without expression, making that trademark serene smirk of hers as she simply look forward, all seemingly comfortable and behaved, without even paying attention to Henderson or Litvak, at all.

Henderson simply sat on the seat, that was doubtlessly numbered 36, right besides Keitel, noticing something was wrong. Knowing her as he did, she'd ecstatic to see him, and would start a conversation of some sort. Instead, she was simply looking forward, like if she was expecting the briefing to commence, all calm and prepared. The only thing that seemed to be moving out of her was her left index finger, beating at the seat arm at a constant pace, all while she seemed patient. For a few seconds Henderson had been looking at her, then diverted his look to the front podium, just to shortly return his sight to the German woman.

"Uhh...", Henderson hesitated, trying to remember Yeats' council from before, as he also tried to fight his fears. "Hi... Greta."

However, she gave no answer, at all, simply focusing forward, all immobile, apparently. Henderson found it strange.

"Hello?", Henderson asked, dumbstruck. "Can you hear me?"

Still, no answer. This made Henderson get dumbfounded, as she seemed so... reserved, as of now. Perhaps, he presumed, she entered a bizarre catatonic state, something the doctors described an immobile state, incapable of feeling anything or reacting to anything. He waved his left hand a few times, up and down in quick succession, to her front and she didn't even blink. Henderson widened his eyes in shock.

"Hey, Yeats.", Henderson called, as the red-hair turned her look to him. "Is this normal?"

Yeats simply looked at Keitel for a time, and then at Henderson, which she nodded. Henderson, giving up, resumed on his seat, though he continued to notice Keitel's index finger, that was still beating on it's own, like the tick of a clock, and it didn't seem it was going to stop. He attempted to wait for a while, but couldn't stop getting distracted. He decided then he had enough, though he couldn't risk that she'd suddenly wake up or something like it and get him in the act. So, slowly, he reached his right hand, while on the seat, and carefully rested it on Keitel's hand. As he noticed he had noticed no reaction, at all, he let out a sigh in relief as he closed his eyes.

"Interesting.", a voice said, calmly, shortly after. A German one. Henderson immediately opened his eyes back, widening back, and looked to his right to see Keitel smirking. "Does 'zat mean we get to date, after all, _herr_ Henderson?"

Beyond her, to her right, a growl was heard, coming from Valsdottr seat. Henderson rapidly rushed to recoil his hand, freeing Keitel's hand once more, realizing he made a big mistake.

"_Holy, I_- I'm so-", Henderson stuttered, nervous.

"**TEN-HUT!**", a voice then roared, a male one, by the podium, belonging to Thorne, shielding every voice, even Henderson's stuttering, whom already sat forward and stopped talking. The remainder of the room remained silent as well, as everyone looked forward, by the podium, where Lilith stepped forward.

"Gentlemen. Ladies.", Lilith started. "Before I start, I'd like to welcome you to your new home, the _Vengeance_. A name that, ironically, fits will, especially for those who previously served the _Wrath_, and previously lost good men and women, be him or her a friend or a brother. I'm well aware that we haven't started our assignments yet, as I'm aware we still are to undock from the Dylarian Shipyards. Still, by the time we arrive on our target, I expect an immediate magnum launch, as you'll be headed into your assignments. That's the reason of the assignment I'm delivering right now."

Then, the giant screen came to life, showing the view of a large blue planet, somehow akin to Earth in it's pristine time, yet covered more with oceans than with land.

"The expedition's aim, that the _Vengeance_ will participate as well, is to locate the primary source of the Zerg Leviathan production, as well as neutralize, if possible, any other Leviathans that are encountered.", Lilith continued. "For such a production to exists, pretty much like we Terrans do, it is known they may have to measure distances. They cannot risk the entire shipyard by putting it too close to the front, nor they can put it too far, for any chance for reinforcements would arrive too late. The first stage of our goal will be to search and scour the borders along the Fringe Worlds, also taking the opportunity to neutralize local Zerg Hive Clusters, as needed. The fall of the Queen of Blades due to the expedition to Char has led to the theory that the Swarm is literally fractured, divided in power struggles to occupy the Queenship. Therefore, they'll be more occupied fighting themselves than engaging Dominion forces. We'll take this advantage and use it to it's maximum. Each and every Hive Cluster that we attack will have no chance for reinforcements and will ultimately stand alone. The first of such Hive Clusters, that we'll attack and neutralize, is situated on the ocean world of Pridewater, a former Confederate mining colony suited for deep underwater extraction, lost to the Zerg at the middle stages of the Second Great War. Due to the limitations of the planet's vast oceans, the Zerg failed to establish a deep root in the planet. But this does not mean the Leviathan production facility is less likely to be found there, for while it may not be on the planet, it can be in the space around it."

Circles and vector lines then appeared on the screen, joining the ocean world, as several small arrows followed along these circles and lines. There were also approximately five small Dominion shields as well, accompanying some of the smaller arrows.

"The initial and only sweep of the area will comprise of three simultaneous assignments, as each squadron of this ship will join with others squadrons home to other ships, and work along.", Lilith said. "Wraith squadrons Shadow and Shark will move along Patrol Route alpha, that covers a seventy kilometer radius around the planet and it's moon. Viking Squadron Golden Tau and Valkyrie squadron Brunhilda will join as well."

As Lilith continued to brief, this time on the other two Viking Squadrons, Blue Delta and Crimson Omega, whom were supposed to follow a patrol route that'd cut the planet and eventually use some of the Wraith Squadron's route, Henderson, whom was simply looking forward, trying to ignore the lady to his right, suddenly felt something starting to touch his right thigh. But it wasn't only touching, it was sliding and _caressing_ too. In a slow, _provocative_ manner. He didn't have to turn his head, just move his eyes and look down to see that the same hand he touched to stop the index finger from beating was now touching him. Meanwhile, Keitel simply looked forward, not changing her expression at all. Henderson's heart only accelerated, as he silently prayed Lilith would now go faster with the briefing.

"And, concluding, Viking squadrons Red Alpha, as well as Valkyrie squadron Skuld, will join and provide protection for our Battlecruisers as we advance and directly assault the Hive Clusters.", Lilith concluded. "The remainder will remain aboard, but will be at hot stand-by should reinforcements be needed. I remind you again that this is our first and only sweep. Eyes will be kept keen on your performance in the coming moments. An exemplary sweep will be required, and nothing short of it. We'll be departing within two hours. I suggest you, pilots, take a quick break, in preparation for the demands the assignment ahead will burden on. An alert will sound off half-hour before the assignment as a wake-up call. That is all, pilots. You're dismissed."

The commotion in the Briefing Room returned, as well as the murmur of the assignment ahead as everyone went on their feet, leaving their seats and starting to move and clutter to one of the two access doors leading out of the briefing room. Keitel stopped looking forward as she stared at Henderson, whom stared back and smirked, as she tiled her head.

"Oh, and _hallo_ to you as well, _herr_ Henderson.", Keitel said, gently. "Firm legging, by 'ze way."

With this finished, the German went on her feet and joined Valsdottr and Yeats, whom were also worming their way to the exit. Henderson simply remained there, for a moment, as Litvak also went up and looked at him, too. Henderson only stared at her with awed eyes.

"_My thigh._", Henderson muttered. "The burly guy let out a growl when I hold her hand, but he won't say anything when she grabs my _thigh_..."

"I don't know about you, Ebert, but I think she's more interested in you than you might think.", Litvak concluded.

"_That rushed, already!?_", Henderson asked, aghast. "Not even a first date, or a kiss? It's not like she's even in for regulations concerning sexual harassment!"

"And have you ever seen her behaving normally, since we met her?", Litvak asked back. "I thought you should've accepted nothing else she does is a surprise anymore."

"Well, she surely breaks the scales every time...", Henderson wondered.

"Mister Henderson, Miss Litvak!", a voice shouted by the podium, making both realize Thorne and Lilith had been looking at them by their seats, the whole time. The room was empty by then. "You can leave_ now_, if you wish! We'll close the room!"

"Oh, sorry, sir!", Henderson shouted, as he went on his feet, and started to walk out. Litvak followed. "Also, I've learned a thing or two from our redhead friend."

"And how's she?", Litvak asked, curiously. "The lady, I mean?"

"No bullshit?", Henderson asked back. "_The most normal of the joint._ She only told me a thing or two about Keitel you should know, though..."

"Really?", Litvak asked, as both had then reached the access door. "What is it?"

"Not here, in private.", Henderson muttered the answer, gesturing with his head at Lilith and Thorne.

Litvak agreed with Henderson's point as both crossed the open door, that shortly closed afterwards, leaving Thorne and Lilith by themselves. The Captain and her aide looked at one another as they let out a sigh.

"You think they were talking of her, ma'am?", Thorne asked.

"_I'm sure they were._", Lilith deadpanned, letting out a sigh. "But as long as it's just _words_, I can turn a blind eye. In the meantime, you could talk to DeForrest, find out what you can of Keitel."

"You know I can only do that after the mission.", Thorne asked.

"Of course.", Lilith replied. "Still, Feud, I want you to talk to him. The more I come to know, the better decision I can make."

"First general navy rule.", Thorne recited. "Aye, Captain, will do."

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

The return to the Evolution Pit was a hard one, given what she'd have to do next. Every step she took long to take seemed like an eternity. What she hate the most was that Izsha and Za'gara were right on their point, that having to control him was needed. She didn't want that, but right now, especially with the said Dominion reinforcements in the scene, there wouldn't be much time until he decided to talk either. And it didn't seem he'd ever do it, knowing that every word he'd spout out would mean more and more deaths of his former comrades in arms. Her concern wasn't just him, but those whom were infested as well. Obviously they didn't like her presence in the chamber, knowing it was she whom allowed them to be dragged off the arms of death and turn the same twisted, corrupted monsters like she was in the past.

As Kerrigan went across the Evolution Pit, she could see some Zerg roaming around, some standing there, while Abathur only stood there, working with his web. The hesitation only increased the more she stepped closer to where Richter and the other infested Terrans were. She took a deep breath as she stepped in, noticing Richter was standing there all along, without feeling tire or stress. He only looked at her, with those sad glowing eyes, as she stepped in, looking everywhere on alert for the other infested Dominion Marines, whom began to stare at her again the moment they noticed her.

"Why... you are here?", Richter asked her, the moment she stepped in. "I've told you... no."

"I know.", Kerrigan said. "But things out there are forcing my hand, not your fault. Please, understand, there's people wanting me to control you. But I'm willing to give you one chance. I just can't come back without the info."

Richter simply remained silent, staring at her, for a moment.

"Please.", Kerrigan started. "Don't let me. It's all I'm asking."

"Still the same.", Richter replied. "Same Kerrigan."

"Then you don't give me much choice.", Kerrigan said, sadly. "I'm sorry."

Her eye pupils glowed their fierce golden yellow glow as it touched the mind of the fallen Colonel.

'I order you to tell me everything you know.', Kerrigan said, psionically. 'Everything concerning Warfield's stronghold, on the Dauntless Plateau.'

As the glow in her eyes ceased, returning to her traditional green eyes, she noticed a growl of every infested soldier around her. She looked around and noticed the hostile staring at her, although the glowing eyes were more dim, often marking a sign of disappointment or disgust. A while passed before the silence was broken again, but by a more compliant Richter, though his voice was more monotone, but not less said.

"The stronghold's name... is _Harkonnen._", he started.

Kerrigan closed her eyes in regret, but not her ears. She remained there and listened as the colonel told everything.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And we're done. One more chapter in the long run of the Char arc. The next should cover the brief aerial battle as well as Denver's role. Well, at least that's how it should be, to end the day and then skip to the next, where you should get to see more interesting content (Yes, Lasarra's first day and such). I'll also see if I can fit some more Nova on it too, and avoid accelerating stuff, as I want everything to be kept in a determined pace. One too early or too late and it won't look good. Fortunately, we're also nearing the end of the Char arc, and then it'll be the PvZ action people will get to taste.

Also, thinking about it, maybe this is also a chance to see a bit more on Henderson too. Expand a bit more of the social novella it's being (Though it will clash with the main Kerrigan plot, I can assure you that.), but I won't ignore the battles, that will occur there out of necessity, like every battle should be. I don't know, I'm just a bit out of ideas, and I want to conclude this day so I can start the next by the morning.

I'm also gonna have to take a chance and read the Spectres book, as well as the Ghost Academy comic to make the damn research I'm postponing, so far, now that I'm getting where I want. Just that info on the StarCraft fan Wikia, I guess, just isn't being enough. I also hope you liked that Protoss war story, though that wasn't on any official lore, so forgive me if I did something wrong.

Oh, well, nothing more to say. Just review and comment. To next week, then.


	19. Chapter XVII - A 'Lovely' Day

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XVII - A 'LOVELY' DAY**

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _HARKONNEN_**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

The orange skies continued to shine onwards, though now it was nearly at night, over the peaks and mountains and lava-riddled valleys, doubtlessly infested with Zerg. Though he kept cool on that, as, on the ground, they couldn't get him. And although the main concern was the aerial threats, as well as any sort of anti-air those damn creatures could muster, there were practically few since the orbiting platform went grounded during the invasion. Virtually, it was safer than before for Blair Casey, the thirty year-old Caucasian female that now piloted her Viking in the standard patrol route around the _Harkonnen_ facility that was her home. She and her squadron, led by her superior officer, Solace Oren, have been there for ten minutes airborne, in what would seemingly be a normal patrol to intercept and destroy any possible air threats.

That, however, wasn't the case today. They were being made a part of a joint operation, between her squadron, another squadron and a simple unit below, that was due to start at any moment, when the Ghost reached his or her waypoint on the ground. The patrol, according to Warfield, was to keep appearances normal, as anything could rouse the attention of the Zerg close to the gigantic Leviathan, nesting right beside Warfield's fortress. The General, she was told, had reasons to believe something, or someone, could be leading the Swarm as it struck the cavern expedition on the first day, and then took out a scouting team the another. It was a bit of an overreaction, she thought, as anyone could lose a hundred men on an operation went wrong. Still, orders were orders, and hers would come in at any moment.

The operation was something simple, and yet, she was told too, it was far from being easy. The hardest part was up to the Ghost, equipped with a simple rifle and a cloaking device they were so feared for, as he or she would climb to the position where the scouting pair was last known and recover any equipment that HQ believed to be transmitting. Casey and the others were the distraction. Doubtless aware that the Zerg could discover the Ghost below, Warfield knew he only needed to keep the Zerg eyes, if that was what those glowing horrors were called, focused on the aggressors long enough for the Ghost to do his or her job, recover the data and then rush the freaking hell back to HQ. By the time the Ghost returned, the fighters would do it too, back to the safety of the anti-air turrets and guns that, if the Zerg leading the defenders was smart, would not risk coming up on range.

The feat would be accomplished through two factors and nothing more, if not needed. They would be speed and what the first targets would be. They would be the Zerg Overlords the Swarm so use and consider as their communication relays and control nodes. Doubtless, this would be enough for the aerial Zerg, by the Leviathan, to be roused for a counter-attack. The speed would be accomplished by the afterburners that the Vikings were refitted with, per General Warfield's orders. This would increase the time the Mutalisks and other faster strains would take to strike those Vikings, giving more time for the Ghost to accomplish his or her mission before the aliens would get an idea of what was really going on.

The mission depended exclusively on the attention of the Zerg to achieve success. That was why, as a contingency plan, should the enemy be not so easily attracted by Overlords under attack, those Vikings had one Air-to-Surface missile, taken from ammunition seen in Battlecruisers, to call the attention. All the meanwhile, as the supposed 'battle' raged in the skies, the real mission would be pulled off on the ground.

"All callsigns, this is Sparrow Leader.", Casey's superior officer, Oren, said through the radio on her cockpit. "Thirty-minute deadline checked up, status check, please, over."

"Sparrow Leader, Sparrow Zero-Two, weapons normal, fuel at ninety percent.", Casey answered through the radio. "Radar confirms negative contact."

"Sparrow Leader, Sparrow Zero-Three, all normal, no contacts.", a second male voice, that wasn't Oren, came on the radio as well.

"Roger.", Oren said. "Canary Leader, please check status."

"Sparrow Leader, this is Canary Leader.", a female voice came through the radio said, with a Western American accent. "All normal on all our callsigns. Just waiting for the party to open."

"This is Canary One-Three, speaking.", a snazzy male voice said on the radio. "Truth be told, I've never been in a Overlord round-up. Is it fun?"

"It only gets fun with other bandits airborne, Canary One-Three.", Sparrow Zero-Three answered. "OV, aren't you?"

"Overlord Virgin confirmed, Sparrow Zero-Three.", One-Three answered.

"Callsigns, please, maintain radio open.", Oren said. "We're nearly there. Hold tight."

"All mission callsigns, this is AirCom.", an African-American female voice said, then, on the radio. "Sneaker has reached waypoint Alpha and advancing, prepare for go code."

"AirCom, this is Sparrow Leader, confirming, all sorties ready for go code.", Oren replied.

"AirCom, this is Canary Leader, all sorties ready for action.", Canary Leader replied too.

"Affirmative.", AirCom finished. "All callsigns, three, two, one. Irene is a go, repeat, Irene is a go. Advance to mission vector One and begin assault, engage and destroy, engage and destroy, how copy?"

"Sparrow Leader, copied.", Oren answered. "Moving to vector now, angels two, maintaining formation. All Sparrows, weapons hot."

Then, as all fighters banked left to turn, Casey did the same, holding a tight grip on her rudder.

* * *

_On the ground..._

The literal marathon which the Ghost related to the mission was running through, Codenamed C9112001, 'Sneaker' for the assignment, was a bit of a harsh one, but that was hardly a surprise for him. Being the traditional special forces type of unit, Ghosts were meant to run more than others, fight more than others, take point and get in a thicker load than others. Hence the harsh training, mental conditioning and chemical substances and implants surgically installed to augment him to a fighting condition, as all others like him. So much as there were some cybernetic implants meant to easily interact with other systems that weren't with the Dominion, another example, and a bit of an unpopular one, were the aggression inhibitors, a mandatory implant for resocialized and all Ghost Program members, that, as it's namesake told so, kept aggressive or rebellious tendencies in an oppressive check. He carried nothing much but the circular-shaped cloaking device on his small backpack as well as the trademark C-20A Rifle, with a minimum of ammunition to handle any trouble on the way to his objective and that's about it. He wasn't meant to get in trouble with the amount of Zerg by the mountains and he wouldn't, keeping focus on the mission objective.

As he jogged forward and uphill, to the base of the rocky peaks that denoted the very beginning of the Blackrock Twins, past a flame geyser apparently calmed down, he could see the first signs of aerial Zerg, tethering up top and flying randomly as the creatures they are. He could the silhouette of Mutalisks and Overlords above, by that almost red sky, given it was almost night time, now. They'd normally notice him by the time he was in the middle of the way to Hetfield and McCoy's former position, but, hopefully, there'd be people above who'd give those Zerg something else to do.

He had no doubt, he had no fear, nor regret. He'd do his job and return to base. Plain and simple. So it was when he activated the cloaking device and started running uphill.

"Command, Sneaker.", the Ghost said. "At the base of the mountain now, proceeding to target."

"Roger, Sneaker.", a male voice went on his intercom. "Will begin the show now, starting firework procedures. Activate cloaking and move forward."

"Affirmative.", Sneaker replied. "Cloaking."

As he continued to move in, his grip tight on his C-20A, a blue energy current ran through him, enveloping him in a curtain that disappeared shortly after, where he could not be seen anymore or anywhere.

The only thing that could be seen was a shimmer moving atop the Twins.

* * *

_On the Courtyard..._

His sight kept a bitter, firm one, as he looked at the fortress' Courtyard, now more empty since Maddox 'second strike force' had left the Terran-occupied Plateau. Now, commotion had returned to normal, for a sort, but that didn't ease him, either. He fixated his stare on the singular Dominion Dropship landed by a section of the courtyard path. He could see some equipment, in separate white colored crates, denoting scientific equipment, being loaded aboard as some figures in equally white lab coats started to board the vessel as well. Amongst them, a single redhead figure wearing a Ghost environment suit was about to board the transport as well when it stopped to look at him. He carried his C-20A as well as some small, circular devices that he could easily identify them as explosives, by his belt. It seemed like he was waiting for approval.

Something that Warfield easily nodded as Denver also boarded the ship, along with two Terran Marines that'd provide security for the General's scientist team. But nodding was always easy. The job ahead would not. It never was, especially when it was directed against the ship belonging to the very government he worked for. The problem was that the government, itself, was way out of league with their intent of removing the best asset Warfield had, especially with things getting messy as they were. That alien artifact was the certainty lives would be spared, but it didn't seem Maddox or even the Emperor would give a damn. And for the event of Arcturus Mengsk himself not listening to Warfield's claims, that surely had to do with Warfield's decision to follow Valerian and Raynor to that place. The bastard was surely taking it too personal.

He looked as the rocket engines of the Dropship flared up and roared, rocket engine howling loud as smoke and dust flew from the ground. He looked as the transport no longer touched the ground as it went higher and higher, a bit above the ground. He looked as the rocket engines spun ninety degrees counter clockwise as the ship started to move forward and bring it's nose upwards, aiming it to higher orbit, probably to the direction of the Battlecruiser it'd dock in.

His gaze then directed to the mountain where the hulking, gargantuan abomination rested, where another operation would start. He looked as, soon, there'd be some very small explosions as a brief battle would begin to rage, long enough for the other Ghost to get the goods and haul ass back.

Hopefully, both Ghosts would be accomplished with their jobs, buying the time and so much needed information for the General.

Hopefully.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

She had been standing there for whole minutes, watching the whole scene, not with her eyes, but those of the Overlord she positioned to oversee the Bone Trench, the only land passage that allowed access to the Dauntless Plateau, housing Warfield's stronghold. She's been watching the whole line of vehicles, soldiers and even SCVs walk on, like a convoy, across the trench, in a number too absurd for an attack. Except that they weren't headed in the direction of the Blackrock Twins, either. It was like if they were simply moving on to somewhere. Her most probable thought was that they were going to set up a second strike base.

So far, Izsha had counted over at least fifty Crucio Siege Tanks, sixty Hellion buggies, twenty to thirty Goliath mechs, not to mention the amount of infantry besides them, walking. She could mostly see SCVs in there, and at least the double, if not triple, the number in Marines, Marauders, Firebats, Ghosts, Reapers and other troops. By the amount of the attack force, they could easily clamp down hard the mountain from two directions. At least, that'd be her strategy with such numbers, if they were at her disposal. However, they also had APCs and military cargo trucks with them, twenty, as she counted, no doubt loaded with materials and supplies, which further supported her theory that they were rather making up a new foothold rather than organizing an attack. But even that was rarely good news, for it'd only take more time to clear both out of Char. They'd also have time to call for help, and that was definitely not good.

"An entire new regiment...", mumbled Izsha, fed up with the revelations as well as the thoughts that now boomed on her head. "I'd rather wished those Battlecruisers, instead."

"How large, if I may inquire?", a female Zerg voice spoke to her left. Izsha didn't have to guess it was Za'gara whom still stood there, even when Kerrigan had left, probably to grow the guts to get the information out of that infested Colonel. At least that's what Izsha hoped.

"Real large.", Izsha answered, not wanting to waste time discussing or picking up a fight with the Brood Mother. "Tanks, mechs, troopers of all flavors... Full self-service package."

"And when are they to arrive here?", Za'gara asked.

"_They won't._", Izsha answered. "They're moving away from the Plateau. And, judging by the construction materials and supplies they're carrying, they're going to settle another base."

"And defiling more of our soil?", Za'gara asked, angry. "Such_ insolence_ only heightens my anger..."

"Funny, you're sounding too religious concerning-", Izsha started, before she suddenly lost contact with the Overlord, the last thing she heard being the scream of the creature. Izsha gasped as she recoiled, the psionic kick hitting her. "**WHAT THE!?**"

"Izsha!", Za'gara roared, fiercely. "To the left!"

Forcing herself back into senses, she raised her head to notice something was going on by the sky.

Fireballs surged as air fighters surged from them, from where Izsha positioned that Overlord. They were three, as another wing of three Vikings also moved, but to the farther left, firing their Lanzer Torpedoes. Neither the halfling nor the Brood Mother could see what was it the torpedoes had hit, but they could see screams of more Overlords following.

Izsha tightened her eyes, livid and knowing Warfield was doing something. And the Overlords had something to do with it.

"What the hell is Warfield doing!?", Izsha asked, angry.

"Apparently destroying our Overlords!", Za'gara readily answered, still fierce.

"_You weren't meant to answer that, you idiot!_", Izsha exclaimed, furious. "Makes no sense, Warfield can't be just that stupid to pick up a fight head-on! Especially with a few fighters!"

"Yet he is doing so, Izsha!", Za'gara replied. "We must react at once!"

"No, there's something else behind this, I can feel it in whatever it remains of my bones...", Izsha mumbled, stressed. "If he's doing this is because he wants us to react."

"Yet if we do not, we shall lose control of our minions!", Za'gara said, urging. "You can see and hear they are concentrating on our Overlords, our most soft of spots!"

"I'm not deaf, and sure as hell I'm not _dumb_!", Izsha exclaimed, angry. "Just a few Mutalisks. We'll then see what kind of game Warfield is playing with..."

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"Sparrow Leader, Sparrow Zero-Two, confirming third kill, third victim down.", Casey reported, as her missiles had hit the third Overlord.

It had been hard and fast, just as the way it should be. Six Overlords were down by the time Casey scored her new victim, as the Vikings denominated the Overlords instead of 'bandits'. That was because Overlords didn't fight back when attacked. They were never meant to. Still, they were pretty good at calling attention, something that whatever was controlling the Zerg by the Leviathan would also be caught by. She, as the rest of the squadron, hoped they'd react with such initial losses.

Which happened, by the moment the vision of alien worms with wings appeared on the pilot's plain view, as well as blips on the cockpit's radar denoting bio-signatures.

"All units, Sparrow Zero-Two, confirming bandits, repeat, confirming bandits entering the show.", Casey readily reported. "Identifying multiple Mutalisks."

"Sparrow Leader, confirmed, Sparrow Zero-Two.", Oren responded. "All callsigns, proceed to engage, delay neutralize, repeat, delay neutralize."

"Sparrow Zero-Two, acknowledged.", Casey replied, as she prepared herself for the delayed dogfights that'd arise and then grabbed the rudder tight.

Casey locked her target on one of the six Mutalisks that broke formation, each to pick on a respective Viking. One was coming straight for her as she unleashed the ammunition of the onboard 25mm auxiliary attack cannon on the creature, that instantly took evasive action flying up and to her right. She immediately followed, bleeding some speed to make a sharp curve, managing to get in the said tail of the Mutalisk.

Since then, it's been a game of curves, banks and shots missed intentionally, all to delay in minutes what normally she'd have killed in seconds, as she didn't fire any torpedoes, for those would home to their targets without question. The Mutalisk she'd been dogfighting attempted slalom maneuvers of it's own that not even the finest aces could fathom, meaning they were also playing along. It attempted to lure the Viking into the rock spike of a mountain, but Casey could see it's intent and dodged it with great ability. Some of the shots she missed, however, also had hit their target, but this contributed to the realism of things. Miss too much and they'd suspect something. Hit too much and the distraction wouldn't last longer.

"Sparrow Zero-Two, still pursuing bandit, one minute through.", Casey reported on the radio. "Bandit performing evasives."

"Sparrow Zero-Two, Canary Leader, watch out, they might be playing you.", Canary Leader answered. "It delays too long, kill it and hunt down a victim, over."

"Confirmed, already have bandit in lock.", Casey replied. "Few more maneuvers and then will shoot down, over."

Suddenly the Mutalisk had diminished it's speed, extending it's wings as the Viking flew straight through it, by the right and getting behind Casey. The huntress was now being hunted.

"Son of a bitch, bandit bled speed!", Casey exclaimed. She then heard the creature let out a feral roar as a green fireball, more of an organic Glaive come through her left, though not damaging the fighter She started forcing her fighter up and to the right, where it then started banking and spinning on it's own in a long spiral. "It's countering! Performing spiral evasive!"

"Sparrow Zero-Two, this is Canary One-Two, I'm close nearby, need backup?", a gruff male voice asked.

"Negative, One-Two, I think I can shake this one.", Casey replied.

"Don't think, Zero-Two, be sure.", Canary One-Two said. "Use the afterburners."

"Roger. Using now.", Casey replied, as she flipped a switch on her cockpit panel, and then, suddenly, a burst of invisible physical strength forced Casey against her seat as the Viking picked up speed beyond what it's normal engines could. She could feel the speed increasing the space gap between her and the Mutalisk that was chasing her, missing another two shots. After a short brief period, she flipped the switch again, cutting off the afterburners.

"Sparrow Zero-Two, got far ahead, space too wide, bandit still behind and firing.", Casey reported. "Will attempt bleeding speed. Three clicks. Two. One."

Suddenly, she diminished her own speed as the Mutalisk, shortly after, bursted through and appeared on the cockpit front window again. She returned her speed.

"Effective!", Casey exclaimed, as her helmet's automatic targeting system started tracking the Zerg creature. "Locking target!", she added, shortly before a loud beep and crosshairs locked on the Mutalisk. "Have a lock! Fox two!"

A Lanzer Torpedo then came out of the Viking's right missile pod and started following the Mutalisk, picking up pace as the winged alien attempted to evade it. Still, it was ineffective, as the missile reached up and hit the Mutalisk, engulfing it in a fireball as some small chunks fell down as a result of the explosion.

"Sparrow Zero-Two, bandit down, good kill.", Casey reported. "I'm headed to pick up a victim."

"Sparrow Zero-Two, Sparrow Leader, confirmed.", Oren replied. "Bandit down here, too, good kill. Will join you."

"Roger.", Casey said, as she banked and turned her Viking left side, getting sight of another Overlord. "Have a victim in sight, preparing to lock.", she added as the helmet did it's own magic. "Have lock! Fox two sent!"

Another missile then came out of Casey's fighter, this time from the left pod, as it flew straight to the Overlord and made a hit perhaps too direct, for a strain that could barely fly and evade less than the Mutalisk tried. And, like a lamb defenseless against a wolf, the Overlord fell, the explosion destroying a big chunk of it's carapace, ripping it apart from it's vital organs as one of the two balloon-like orbs, filled with gas of it's own that kept it afloat, ruptured and the dead body lost weight and started flying down to it's inevitable fate.

The fourth Overlord down for the count.

The fourth victim, indeed. Seventh, counting other kills.

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, _HARKONNEN_**

"Sparrow Zero-Two, foruth victim down. Repeat, fourth Overlord kill. Good kill.", Blair Casey's voice echoed across the command room, the mission in progress. Everyone present in the room, McGrudd included, had been listening, except for the communications officer and others with headset phones on their ears.

So far, the mission had been proceeding smoothly, apart from the odd fact that there were too little aerial Zerg to cover that Leviathan. Sneaker, the Ghost assigned, had been keeping up the pace and met no trouble thus far. Transmissions came in by the minute from all Vikings, from both Sparrow and Canary wings, whom counted their kills and informed their status.

Perhaps _too_ smoothly, even for McGrudd, so used to seeing brutal action when Zerg and Terran fought one another, even in small skirmishes like these.

Heavy steps from CMC-300 armored boots clamped behind him as he could notice it was either a Marine or General Warfield himself approaching. The latter was confirmed when he started speaking.

"How we're doing, McGrudd?", Warfield asked behind him.

"Going _too_ cozy, if you ask me, General.", McGrudd answered. "The Zerg are reacting when the Overlords die, sure, but they're too few."

"_Too few!?_", Warfield asked, upset. "Zerg don't do this sort of thing!"

"You think they know we're up to something, sir?", McGrudd asked, bothered.

"I know they are, Duncan, otherwise they'd be answering in force!", Warfield replied, angry. "What of Sneaker?"

"Nothing so far with him, but I'm not sure it'll be like that.", McGrudd answered.

"Then we better step up the game.", Warfield said. "Get the contingency to work. Inform all fighters to fire those damn missiles."

"I don't think they're gonna be roused by that.", McGrudd said.

"They better, or they'll notice the Ghost and all this will have been for naught.", Warfield said. "Do it."

* * *

**HANGAR BAY 3, BATTLECRUISER '_MARATHON_'**  
**HIGH ORBIT OVER CHAR.**

The hangar of the Battlecruiser orbiting the fiery red planet was practically empty, apart from the crates spread out as well as the vehicles under repair whom simply stood there, like two Siege Tanks, one Goliath and a Viking in it's mechanoid Assault Mode, all not being tended to as even the mechanic crews were driven off. The only ones that were standing were a small group of six scientist, all forming the scientific crew of the _Marathon_, two officers that were the Number One and Captain, and a line of red-clad Dominion Marines standing guard, as the White and Red Dropship slowly descended it's way down to eventually touch the cold metal floor of the hangar.

The Captain and Number One, Arrow Richardson and Felicia Gonzales, respectively, were hardly surprised by the arrival of the Dropship. After all, General Maddox assured the Dropship and, especially, it's content would arrive and be delivered to Korhal, the throne-world of the Dominion, one way or another. And now it was there, inside that very vessel that was now landing and opening it's doors.

Richardson had a more cold and gruff appearance, a face torn by time and war as he was one of few Dominion Battlecruiser Captains still living past the Brood War, as well as the Second Great War. His grey hair was as revelant as the optical lens that replaced his lost eye. Some remainder of the wound, provoked by a Zergling when his old ship, the Xerxes, crashed on the deserts of Sonyan, one of Warfield's operations to advance against the Swarm head-on before the General was called to this hell-hole. Gonzales, on the other hand, had a more open, emotional side, a courtesy of her Hispanic traits, like the short brown hair and tanned white skin with brown eyes. She was the replacement to Richardson's former aide, lost to the Zerg to that day, too.

As the Dropship's cargo bay opened itself, revealing the team of scientists that started heading down the ramp and into the hangar, both noticed there was no crate or a blue, alien glow of a sort anywhere on the ship. It seemingly were only those people along with the pair of Marines present to act as escort. One of these six scientists, two of which were female, removed his optical headwear to reveal his bald, snide face with a long nose and black eyes, looking headstraight at Richardson, whom slightly grinded his teeth in dismay.

"Captain Richardson, I presume?", the bald scientist started. "Doctor Norman Long, from the Crown Prince's expedition."

"Dispense the pleasantries, 'Doctor'.", Richardson said, bitterly. "Where is the alien trinket? It was _supposed_ to have come with you."

"Straight to the point, as expected.", Long replied, frowning. "The Xel'Naga artifact will arrive, we assure you, but on the next transport."

"_Next transport!?_", Richardson asked. "Why a 'next transport' for a simple piece of equipment?"

"We are here, Captain, to exactly prepare the ship laboratory's anti-gravitational containment field, to then transport the artifact and have it safely delivered to Korhal.", Long explained. "I trust your vessel has one such field generator, correct?"

"You could very well bring it along and then set it all on this ship, Doctor.", Richardson stated, disdainfully. "There are people who can do _both_ things at once, in case you haven't noticed. Not to mention we're on a *very* tight schedule."

"If you'll excuse me, Captain, this is an _alien_ artifact we are talking about, and by that I mean this is not a simpleton trinket or a crate of beer!", Long replied, firmly. "It is a rare, delicate and, might I add, _dangerous_ non-human-fabricated object that, should it not be in the proper containment field or put into considerable danger, it could easily either become useless, destroy itself to prevent further abuse or, the worst scenario, unleash a shockwave that would definitely _destroy_ the Terran vessel altogether! And, I am sure, none of these options is likely to please the Emperor, as you seek to aim by doing this job, isn't it?"

Richardson frowned as he admired the scientist's firm position on the knowledge of things. A first, for a tough military scientist.

"And may I inquire on_ how_ do you know this?", Richardson asked, coldly. "On what do you base your 'scientific' opinion on?"

"As you may be aware, our not-so-much-now esteemed General had been in joint work with the Raynor's Raiders terrorist group.", Long answered. "Our team had been in contact with their Chief Scientist, Egon Stetmann."

"And you'd easily take word coming from someone whom works with _terrorists_?", Richardson asked, bitterly.

"I would not, Captain, but they had been with all pieces of the artifact for over a month.", Long replied. "And, from what Stetmann informed, it was necessary to draw more and more power from the Battlecruiser's fusion core to maintain the gravitational field every time a new piece was added. And all of it as they traveled everywhere across the Sector during the war. Fortunately, if that comforts you, Captain, you'll only need one trip to then transport it to Korhal, which we'd like to join in to oversee and inform the local scientists there of how this artifact operates."

"Captain.", the Spanish accent voice of Gonzales said. "It may be wise to listen to Doctor Long on this. The _artefacto_ could be very dangerous."

"If it were, Gonzales, Warfield and his men down there wouldn't be alive.", Richardson answered back, coldly.

"It was only safe because we had prepared a field anti-gravitational field generator, suited for the task.", Long informed. "Better to prevent a catastrophe to rather gestate it, even if is in a single trip."

Richardson paused for a moment, simply staring at the doctor.

"Well, Captain?", Long insisted.

"Very well, Doctor.", Richardson said, coldly. "I'll inform General Maddox of this. But the artifact better be on the second Dropship headed here, as you declared!"

"It will be, Captain, I assure you.", Long said, confident.

"I said_ it better be_, Doctor.", Richardson repeated with a threatning voice. "Now, if there's nothing else to warn, now would be a good time to work on what you need to work and inform Warfield."

"Obviously.", Long replied, lightly sarcastic. "If you'll please show me the laboratory..."

"Of course, _señor_ Long.", Gonzales said, nodding her head. "If you'll please follow me..."

"And be sure to be giving me updates by the minute, Gonzales.", Richardson ordered, coldly, as both turned around. "I don't want anyone trying something funny."

"Why do you ask that, Captain?", Long asked, ironically. "Would you really believe a team of unarmed scientist would try something on a well-guarded ship under your helm?"

"Exactly!", Richardson abruptly answered, starting to walk to the access door leading out of the hangar. Gonzales, the scientists and the Marines followed, as the Dropship's cargo bay remained open. Within a few minutes, the hangar was almost clear.

It was when, even with all light, something could clearly move to the access door. A shimmer.

A shimmer of someone clearly not wanting to be seen. Not there, at least.

* * *

**BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

"Sparrow Zero-Two, confirming sixth Overlord down.", Casey Blair declared, flying through the position of the former Overlord that was now falling to the ground. "Repeat, sixth victim down."

"Sparrow Zero-Two, Sparrow Leader, confirmed, another victim down.", Solace Oren answered. "Hostile contact still at minimum."

"Attention all mission callsigns, this is General Horace Warfield.", suddenly, an old, African-American voice appeared on the radio. "We're keeping track on your mission progress, and I must conclude Zerg defenders are not enough, they just don't behave like this, especially concerning too many Overlords lost. Based on this, I'm ordering you to execute contingency plan Beta. Aim your missiles and fire them directly at the Leviathan. Confirm order received, over."

"General Warfield, this is Canary Leader.", Canary Leader replied. "I'd like to inform that you are aware that enemy response will be immediate and stronger tenfold. Are you certain of order to execute plan Beta, over?"

"One hundred and twenty percent certain, Canary Leader.", Warfield answered. "The furious response is the intent of the mission, hence the afterburners. The lack of defenders denotes that they may be aware of Sneaker's assignment on the ground. We can't let them get him. We must buy time and distraction by any means. I repeat, you are to execute contingency plan Beta."

"Canary Leader, order received.", Canary Leader replied. "Will prepare to strike."

"Sparrow Leader, acknowledged order.", Oren said, following next. "Vectoring to coordinate with Canary, over."

"Roger that, Canary and Sparrow, over and out.", Warfield finalized. "And, gentlemen... Good luck."

* * *

_Seconds before, on the ground..._

Izsha's eyes only tightened in a fierce look as she looked through the eyes of one of the Mutalisks that was fighting the insolent Dominion Viking fighters above. A duel of dogfights, maneuvers and shots was proceeding as she looked through everywhere and nowhere. More than a minute took when the Mutalisk she was looking through fell down, something that was not supposed to be normal. Not to mention that the Vikings fired their auxiliary attack cannons with the intent to hit as few as possible. Then there were the afterburners. That wouldn't surprise Izsha, weren't for the fact they were being used along with the other distractions.

Another proof. Another proof on what she needed to know that was everything but a battle. A skirmish even less.

"_I knew it!_", Izsha said, bitterly. "These Vikings are just stalling for time, they're distracting us!"

"I would find this quite improbable, Izsha.", Za'gara replied. "They continue to assault our Overlords!"

"I sent the Mutalisks, and what have they done!?", Izsha asked, livid. "They went flying around, taking more than a minute to take the minions down! Sure as hell there's something going on, and clearly it doesn't have to do with your usual air strike!"

"I have heard tales of Terrans utilizing their most powerful of weapons, called Nuclear Missiles.", Za'gara said. "Perhaps they may be preparing for one. Hence the hunt for our Overlords!"

"If it's true, then it's about finding the damn Ghost.", Izsha concluded. "But with those bastards all over the place, there's no way in hell we can-"

"_What are they doing!?_", Za'gara asked, nervous, not listening to Izsha, as she's seen all Viking fighters converging all to the Nerve Center. Six of them, all headed straight to them. Izsha, noticing Za'gara wasn't listening, stopped talking to look in the direction the Brood Mother was looking at, which she then widened her eyes. Suddenly, missiles came out of them as they flew straight to the Leviathan.

"**SHIT!**", Izsha roared as the missiles went over the head of the giant Zerg beast, but have hit above, in some place soft, hence the roar of agony the beast was unleashing in pain. The Vikings flew overhead, getting passed by the Leviathan as they divided and spread out again, Izsha feeling they started to shoot down Overlords again.

"Now, they are clearly aggressing the Leviathan!", Za'gara roared in anger. "We cannot allow them anymore insolence! _We have to return it in force!_"

"He's trying to get our attention, haven't you noticed!?", Izsha exclaimed, angry. "That's what he wants, for us to take the bait while whatever he's doing is going peachy! He's even got afterburners to outrun us time and again!"

"These Terrans can outrun us, Izsha, but they cannot outsmart us.", Za'gara said, firmly. "For as much as I regret, I shall have to believe in your intelligence and cunning, Izsha!"

Izsha let out a bitter growl as she looked at those fighters flying around. But, then, something hit her mind in an instant, a light, as she reminded what the Brood Mother said.

"Wait...", Izsha mumbled. "Outrun... Outsmart..."

The light became even stronger as Izsha's expression was a more fierce one, an idea breeding.

"You just gave me an idea, Za'gara...", Izsha said, her vigor renewed. "I'll be damned for listening to you, but what the hell!"

Suddenly, she started concentrating, as, across the Leviathan, accesses opened. From them, the rest of the Zerg aerial defenses, dozens of Mutalisks, Corruptors and Scourge clusters, all advancing to respond in force to this said aerial 'battle'.

Za'gara, herself, was left dumbfounded by what Izsha said. Behind her, the fleshy door by the deep inside of the Nerve Center opened as Kerrigan herself ran in, rushing to meet the Brood Mother and halfling.

"Heard some real, hurting roar back inside.", Kerrigan asked. "What's going on?"

"Terrans, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "They are in small numbers, yet they are attacking us! Bombarding our Leviathan as they assault our Overlords!"

"Alright, Warfield...", Izsha murmured, defiantly, letting out small smirk.

"_And why didn't you warn me!?_", Kerrigan asked, angry. "I'd have gone to help you!"

"You were occupied with the Terran Colonel, my Queen.", Za'gara said.

"So you like to play games, huh?", Izsha continued to murmur, apparently to herself.

"I _was_ busy, but then something hits the Leviathan and I hear a deafening roar!", Kerrigan exclaimed.

"The Terrans are in relatively small number, thus we believed this would be no reason to call your services.", Za'gara defended herself.

"Well, then...", Izsha murmured again.

"I don't like being left out in the dark, Za'gara, and you know it!", Kerrigan

"Let's see how you like this game...", murmured Izsha, smiling.

"I would have handled this, were not for Izsha, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "She had been _toying_ with these Terrans since they arrived!"

"_What!?_", Kerrigan asked, upset, turning to face Izsha. "Is it true, Izsha?"

Izsha was then caught by surprise from Kerrigan's questions.

"Sorry, what?", Izsha asked, pretending innocence.

"Were you or you weren't _toying_ with them?", Kerrigan asked, tense.

"Well, they toyed _first_, if you'd like to know, little Sarah.", Izsha answered. "But not anymore."

"And why's that?", Kerrigan asked.

"Well, I have only one question for you.", Izsha answered. "Have you ever been to a rodeo?"

The question left Kerrigan dumbstruck, though that wasn't supposed to happen in the tension of a battle.

"What?", she asked, not understanding. "Why you're asking me this, Izsha?"

"Because, now, Kerrigan...", Izsha said, with an evil tone. "I'll get to play_ Round-Up Ropey_ with them."

* * *

_On the air..._

"_What do you mean nothing happened yet, Sparrow Leader!?_", Casey heard as Warfield exclaimed, upset, on the radio. "The contingency plan was supposed to have an effect!"

"That is the problem, General, there is still no aggressive reaction.", Oren answered. "And we are continuing to assault the Overlords. Contingency was not effective."

Casey only heard a growl of frustration coming from the cockpit radio as she launched another Lanzer Torpedo that shot another Overlord down. She could know it belonged to the General.

"Okay, all callsigns, nevermind.", Warfield said, fed up. "Just another day gone to _waste_. I'm calling off the assignment, return to-"

"General, Canary Leader, wait, I'm seeing something!", Canary Leader said, as she acted like she saw something. Casey took her chance to look around, by the cockpit windows, when she saw, by the giant Zerg beast, several smaller Zerg flyers coming out of it and taking to the skies. Figures of alien worms with wings as well as moving brain-shaped beings with tendrils were sky high, ready to fight to defend their supposed nest.

"All callsigns, Sparrow Zero-Two, disregard last, repeat, disregard last, contingency plan Alpha was effective, multiple hostiles on visual!", Casey said, fast and tense. "Identifying multiple bandits, by dozens! Mutalisks, Corruptors, Scourge clusters! Reaction is aggressive, confirm over!"

"So they're fighting back?", Warfield asked, surprised. "Alright, all callsigns, forget about canceling the assignment, get to work and spare nothing of those afterburners. Get Sneaker the time he needs to finish the job!"

"Command, Sparrow Zero-Two, ten-four with pleasure!", Casey replied.

"All callsigns, Canary Leader, get the engines warming and your running heels hot.", Canary Leader said. "It's time to get to the real work."

"Sparrow Leader, roger that.", Oren replied. "All Sparrows, prepare to lock on new victims and break and run."

"Sparrow Zero-Two, confirmed.", Casey replied, preparing herself for what it'd come, as she reunited with her squadron and aimed at a new Overlord. "Lock on victim! Fox two sent!"

Another missile went off the right missile pod as the Vikings broke their formation and activated their afterburners, starting to run as the aerial Zerg began to run after. Like it was predicted, the distraction worked. Now it wasn't a matter of getting their attention, anymore.

Now it was a matter of staying alive long enough for everyone to get back.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

"Command, this is Sneaker.", a male, invisible voice spoke through the middle of the steep elevations of the Blackrock Twins. "Already on the middle of the mountain. No enemy contact, thus far. Negative for Overlord or Overseer contact too. Now at twenty clicks from objective."

"Confirmed, Sneaker.", Command answered, through his intercom as he continued to advance across, the only thing shielding him being the invisibility of the cloaking device on his back. He could see the supposed fighting above, six fighters against dozens of Zerg, reacting angrily in response to the attack in their very grounds, the very beast that now rested at the gap between the two peaks that meant the namesake of the mountain. Six brave souls who'd buy time, even at the cost of their lives, if needed, for the Ghost to accomplish his assignment. One thing that was sure was that those Vikings, thanks to their afterburners and the instructions they had, wouldn't be so easily caught up. And the Zerg wouldn't try to spread Overlords to see if there was something else going on, not with the fighters shooting them down at every turn. This gave Sneaker what he needed to do his job and get back, all the while like if he'd never been there in the first place. The information Warfield would get would now be definite, as the Dominion would now know with what they were dealing with. Or with whom, depending on how what the hearsay on the _Harkonnen_ fortress was going since he left.

As he climbed further and further atop the mountain, he could see the first of Zerg strains as they remained immobile, though they were also looking up, to the skies, roaring angry at the audacity those pilots were having in attacking them. So much Zerglings as Roaches and Hydralisks looked to the skies, though the latter, snake-like aliens could react, firing their needle spines in attempts to hit the Vikings. Though, too, that'd be in vain. He noticed none of them were looking at the Ghost, and anywhere they looked on the ground they didn't take it as a threat. They'd briefly notice him, through his psionics, were not for the psionic barrier he activated to prevent them from sensing his presence. Being a psionic, like Sarah Kerrigan was, Zerg were more attracted than ever to such beings and their capacity for things beyond human capacity. Only a careless or untrained psionic could be sensed and eventually tracked by the Zerg. Fortunately, the Ghosts were _neither_. He still continued to see there were no Overlords up above, but he decided to step up the pace.

After all, like in any risky mission, the advantage was good, as was the window, but ultimately neither would last.

* * *

**ACCESS HALL J, BATTLECRUISER '_MARATHON_'**

"_Attention all crewmembers, this is your Captain speaking._", a cold voice went through the PA system across the hall and the whole ship, no doubt, as it echoed and boomed like any announcement or warning should. "_As you are aware, we have visitors from the Harkonnen facility on the surface that, right now, are performing needed adjustments on the laboratory in preparation to transport the primary valuable artifact. Therefore, access to any other crewmember than security or our science personnel to the lab is forbidden until further notice. I realize this is a work most unnecessary and largely un-welcomed by the crew of this vessel. We're only fortunate, however, it'll be brief, and we'll soon be able to return to business. In the meantime, while this assignment isn't accomplished, I expect professionalism and express obedience of said orders. That'll be all._"

He'd been waiting there for five minutes, waiting, struggling to remain still, as a couple of ship crewmembers passed through what was supposed to be an empty access hall, otherwise they'd notice. People like these would be oblivious, but even Denver knew they weren't stupid that, when they saw a shimmer moving around, it wasn't someone cloaked running around. And where there was someone cloaked, there was sure to be trouble, otherwise there was no need for that. It was practically a bit difficult, especially when Battlecruisers had psi-screens on sensitive areas, intent on preventing sabotage.

As he looked both sideways for someone coming, Denver started moving again, minding that the cloaking device was still active. He was only fortunate there were still no motion sensor or the security cameras weren't picking much of the shimmer, otherwise he'd be in deep. That'd have to change, however, when he arrived by the Engineering section, that led to the standard and Warp Core, the primary factors that'd the Battlecruiser moving instead of a floating husk. Given there'd be some security by that section, which it'd be full of technicians and crewmembers, he'd need to make himself known. Assassinating the guards wasn't an option either, for that would get attention and Denver's getaway would be much more difficult.

Coming across a T intersection, Denver hid by the corner from the direction that'd lead left and took a peak to see two Dominion soldiers standing guard by an armored door. That meant he reached his intended destination, and, thus, walked back a bit and looked around as he deactivated his cloaking device. There was no security camera nearby, giving him an advantage. Thus, he walked back to the intersection, walked left and went directly to the direction of those Marines standing guard. Even though the Marines were supposed to arm up and be ready to fire, shouting orders to hold still, they nearly did it before they realized he was wearing Dominion colors, and thus they must've thought he was one of the ship's crew.

"Can you open the door, trooper?", Denver asked, pretending he was calm, when he approached the door.

"_Are you dumb!?_", the left Marine, in Denver's view, angrily asked. "Engineering's a restricted area!"

"I've been re-assigned here, to stand guard.", Denver said, firmly. "Direct orders from Captain Richardson."

"Wait a second, we weren't informed of any changes in guard duty!", the Marine to the right exclaimed, upset.

"You can call him, if you want.", Denver deadpanned. "In the meantime, open the door so I can stand guard."

"_Like if we easily would!_", the Marine to the left said, angry.

"Like I said, _call him_.", Denver replied, calm. "He'll confirm it. But if I don't report within the next three minutes that I'm on station, I'm afraid I'll have to _report you_ to the Captain, for obstructing my line of duty."

Some moment went on, the Marines staring at the Ghost before them as Denver simply stared back, frowning.

"Well?", Denver asked, impatient.

"Alright...", the right Marine said, turning around and turning the switch, as the door opened automatically, revealing the Engineering section of the _Marathon_. Denver simply stepped forward, walking with his head straight past the commotion of the crowded area, with the mechanics, crewmembers and a Chief Engineer, responsible for the ship's welfare, standing there as he kept watch over everything and nothing. The humming of engines was incredibly loud as anyone could barely be heard in there. Denver felt himself practically invisible, even without the cloak, as he walked and no one noticed him.

The Engineering section itself seemed rather huge, with piping extending everywhere, though not blocking or disturbing the catwalk above that'd lead higher. On the very floor, machinery, Vespene tanks and power transmitters were distributed in rows, power cables and pipes connecting each and every thing running on floor grating, meant to be easily removed should repairs or maintenance be needed. Though the huge engineering section also housed other unique features of it's own, namely two cylindric tubes with enormous power batteries, those being the fusion reactors used to maintain power to the ship, as well as a gigantic device with an orb-like reactor by a glass floor below, that being the Warp Core utilized by the Battlecruiser to perform it's Faster Than Light travel across the worlds of the Koprulu Sector. Far ahead, another apparatus, a Defensive Matrix Generator, was working at full capacity and being operated by two mechanics. After the matrix, stood the elevated structure that connected the two side engines of the Battlecruiser, as well as a stair leading to the lower engine. The upper engine could only be accessed through the catwalk, meaning Denver would have to retrace some steps or not. That was why he preferred to already plant a charge by the upper engine, that'd cause enough damage to shut it down, given it'd hit from within instead of outside, to then proceed to the lower engines and Warp Core.

Then, the fireworks would be enough to accomplish the mission, but the Ghost would set the timer for one minute, after all had been triggered through a remote, giving enough time for him to make away, cloak somewhere safe and head back to the Dropship that'd take him home.

All in all, without any concerns, _a lovely day..._

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

"_Round-Up Ropey?_", an angry Kerrigan asked, as she looked at the supposed 'battle' outside. "What the hell is this game you're gonna play with them?"

"Well, it's a little too fancy, for your usual tactic type.", Izsha answered. "It's about trying to get those runners by circling around them. Sort of."

"_Sort of!?_", Kerrigan asked, angry. "And you're _playing_ with them instead of getting them!?"

"Your everyday usual chase wouldn't work here, Kerrigan.", Izsha deadpanned. "Warfield put afterburners on those, so they can outrun us."

"_And what if you can't circle them in time?_", Kerrigan asked, staring at Izsha. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Don't worry.", Izsha said, chuckling. "One thing I sure learned is to have an alternative in hand."

"You're sounding too confident.", Kerrigan deadpanned.

"I assure you...", Izsha started. "By the next ten minutes you're getting back on that statement."

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

The climb continued to be harsh, since he started it. The cloaking continued to keep him safe and sound, though he couldn't look at most directions to see if there was any Overlord close by. Ultimately, it'd end up to the Vikings again to do their part, even though the Zerg have had enough of playing around, as he heard on the intercom. Not to mention that was a sort of a nice spot that Hetfield and McCoy chose to settle and keep an eye on the creature. The more difficult will be climbing down to then return, once the data had been retrieved. He was extremely exposed at all and every turn.

Sneaker, that time, could recognize how difficult it was to attempt and sneak past the Zerg. It was different than with attempting to infiltrate Terran facilities or even the sacred temples the Protoss so admired. Though the Zerg had no security systems other than Overlords, they had enough numbers to cover an entire area, giving an impression of nigh impenetrable. But nigh impenetrable was an almost forbidden word for Ghosts, for a solution could always be found.

That was how we was taught since his entry in the Ghost Academy. That was how we was taught since he was taken in by a wrangler, like many others whom haven't been entered into the Program through inscription by the mandatory Psi-Ops register. That was how we was taught, along with other lessons and indoctrination the Dominion performed between one memory wipe and another.

Suddenly, he heard a beeping sound, as a warning light came up his left arm armor piece. Still, given he couldn't check on it now, he continued climbing, as he knew what the sound meant. It didn't take long for his headwear to also start flashing a message before his eyes.

**WARNING - MOEBIUS REACTOR ENERGY RESERVES LOW**  
**ENERGY AVAILABLE FOR: 04:52 SECONDS**

Sneaker growled at the new difficulty before him. And just finding the archives and recovering them would take two of these minutes. The remainder would be depleted when he managed to climb down.

One more problem ahead. One more problem added to many already.

* * *

_On the air..._

"Canary One-Two, multiples on my six, shaking them off!", Casey heard on the radio as she, herself, activated the afterburner again to dodge a group of five Mutalisks, accompanied by a Scourge cluster, to outrun and get out of range. "Effective! Turning to search and destroy new victim!", she further heard as she banked left and turned.

"All callsigns, this is AirCom, recommended you don't focus only on victims.", AirCom said on the radio while Casey made a maneuver by one of the rock spires, to rouse off her pursuers. "Suspicion is too high and Sneaker may be discovered. Shoot down a few bandits, over."

Immediately following AirCom's suggestion, Casey's helmet picked up the aim of a Corruptor flying with two others as they flew randomly, attempting to pursue Sparrow Zero-Three. Without saying anything, she fired a Lanzer Torpedo as it flew out and impacted on the target, exploding the Corruptor. Blood and meat chunks rained of whatever was left of the creature.

It was quite tense and fast, far more faster than anything she'd ever trained for. When she'd have to make herself known and then run like hell as per the assignment's objectives. Still, there was plenty enough, but still the shiver up her spine hasn't ceased to crawl over, and that bothered her too much in battle.

That was because the mission was going well. Too well, even for an optimistic person's taste.

"Canary Leader, confirmed, engaging bandits of opportunity!", Canary Leader answered, tense.

"Sparrow Zero-Two, confirm bandit down, Corruptor!", Casey said, as she banked left and flew down, making a large half-way curve. "Hostiles still on pursuit, performing maneuvers!", she added, rising her Viking upwards and to the right.

"All callsigns, Sparrow Leader, head to the farther corners, fifteen clicks minimum, then turn around, long turns!", Oren ordered. "Use afterburners, make them jog the hell out, over!"

"Sparrow Zero-One, confirmed!", Casey heard on the radio as she fired another missile, hitting another Overlord and killing it.

"Sparrow Zero-Two, victim down, victim down, good kill!", Casey shouted, as she flipped the switch and activated the afterburner again. "Igniting now!"

"Sparrow Zero-Three, burning forward!", Sparrow Zero-Three answered. "Good pace! Gap increasing- **SHIT!**"

"Sparrow Zero-Three, Sparrow Leader, what is it?", Oren asked. "Sparrow Zero-Three, are you there?"

"Sparrow Zero-Three, met contact at twelve, repeat, met contact at-!", Sparrow Zero-Three said, alarmed, before a loud hiss suddenly came and there was no contact since.

"Sparrow Zero-Three, Sparrow Leader, come back, over!", Oren exclaimed. "_Sparrow Zero-Three, come back, can you hear me, Joshua!?_"

As she flew ahead, rather paying attention to the radio than to what was ahead of her, it was no surprised when she jumped as she's seen contact ahead of her, a pocket of Mutalisks and Corruptors headed to her direction and firing. Letting out a yelp, she immediately steered the Viking down as she made a sharp curve to turn around, turning the afterburners on again.

"Sparrow Zero-Two to all callsigns!", Casey shouted, alarmed. "Watch yourselves, people, I also got hostiles on my twelve, they're circling around! Remain alert, all callsigns, repeat, remain alert!"

Casey's heart beat frantically, trying to remain calm despite the near-death experience. That wasn't supposed to happen. Or perhaps it was, as the Zerg were playing along too well, as she feared. That was too calculated, even for Terran standards. That only confirmed that there was something or someone leading those Zerg, and clearly wouldn't have good intentions with the Dominion forces on that world. For the Zerg were supposed to simply follow exhaustively, without coordination or circling or even taking shortcuts. All while waiting for the mission on the ground to be done and struggling to remain alive until the sign to return to _Harkonnen_ came. What happened just changed the level. Pure and simple.

"Sparrow Leader, warning acknowledged!", Oren said. "All callsigns, diminish minimum run to ten clicks then turn! They're playing with us, too, _don't let them!_"

"Canary Leader, sure as fekk acknowledged on that!", Canary leader exclaimed. "AirCom, what's the status on Sneaker? It's getting real ugly up here!"

"Canary Leader, AirCom, Sneaker almost to objective target.", AirCom replied. "Hold tight, this will end soon."

"AirCom, Sparrow Leader, please advise Sneaker to hurry!", Oren urged. "I fear we have a KIA on Sparrow, Zero-Three, Joshua Brandt!"

Casey closed her eyes and let out a sigh, as she could feel what happened to him. Unlike her, she thought, he didn't have a chance. Still, her mind continued to be focused on the task of dodging the Zerg aggressors and out-maneuvering them as she returned to the center of battle, the very thick of where things were happening. Several Scourges were flying all over the place as well as Corruptors and Mutalisks.

"Sparrow Leader, AirCom, can you confirm Sparrow Zero-Three down, over?", AirCom asked.

"AirCom, Sparrow Leader, cannot confirm, but cannot reach contact, either!", Oren replied, tense.

"Sparrow Leader, AirCom, understood.", AirCom said. "Will attempt from here. Not effective, is not transmitting, repeating, is not transmitting."

"Sparrow Zero-Two, have hostiles all over the place! Many are circling around!", Casey said, as she continued to maneuver again and again, to avoid collision as well as the Glaive Wurms and Parasite Spores being fired against her. She activated her afterburner after firing another Lanzer Torpedo, that scored a Mutalisk kill. "Confirm bandit kill, Mutalisk! _Igniting!_"

"Canary One-Two, bandits in pursuit, attempting evasives!", Canary One-Two said. "Ineffective! Attempting- _What the hell is that thing!?_"

"Canary One-Two, Canary Leader, what is it?", Canary Leader asked, nervous.

"Canary Leader, Canary One-Two, it's some sort of new Zerg!", Canary One-Two rapidly said, seemingly horrified. "It's headed straight to me- Son of a bitch, he's got me! Can't shake him, he's spinning me around!"

"Canary One-Two, Canary Leader, sound off, now!", Canary Leader shouted.

"**CANARY LEADER, SOMEONE, HELP ME!**", Canary One-Two roared, before he let out an agonizing scream and, shortly after, the same loud hiss that came with Sparrow Zero-Three showed up.

"Any closest unit, this is Canary Leader, can someone get to him!?", Canary Leader asked, desperate.

"Canary Leader, Sparrow Zero-Two, on it!", Casey said, as she activated her afterburners and steered her Viking to Canary One-Two's position. Arriving there, as she fired her Lanzer Torpedoes on the nearby Overlord, she's seen that what appeared to be what Canary One-Two saw. It was a sort of Zerg like none that was ever seen. It's head was purely Zerg, although the body was more snake-like, being held aloft in the air through a set of dragonfly-like wings. Her eyes widened at the new horror ahead. One more type of Zerg to worry about.

"AirCom, Sparrow Zero-Two, I have new contact in sight!", Casey said, alarmed. "I repeat, new contact, _a new Zerg type_, not identified in database! Saying again, I new Zerg aerial strain type, confirm now!"

"Sparrow Zero-Two, are you certain?", AirCom asked, as Casey looked tense. "Can you confirm new Zerg type?"

"AirCom, this is Sparrow Leader, confirming new Zerg type, too!", Oren said, tense as well. Suddenly, the new creature let out some sort of tongue out of it's mouth, longer than that of a frog's tongue, and extended into the open air. "It unleashed something- **SHIT, IT'S GOT ME!** _Can't shake him, can't shake him!_"

Casey watched in horror as she's seen the creature begin to spin around, in full circles and quickly, the said tongue still on. She could see, on one of the extremities, her superior officer and it's Viking stuck and still moving around along with the circle. "Command, the creature grasped Sparrow Zero-Two! Vectoring to intercept!", she exclaimed, alarmed.

She rushed straight to the spinning creature, when it's tongue suddenly recoiled and all Casey could hear was a loud scream from her superior officer, before that hiss came up again.

"**MY GOD!**", Casey roared, horrified. "Sparrow Leader is down, repeat, Sparrow Leader is down!" Her helmet locked into the creature and fired a Lanzer Torpedo, that exploded the creature. "Fox two sent! Bandit down! Shit, hostiles on me! _Evading!_"

Casey activated her afterburner as she banked her fighter and a whole collection of Zerg flyers went on pursuit. At least more than twenty were onto her fighter as she flew away for her life.

* * *

Tire had caught up to him as he managed to finally come on top of where Hetfield and McCoy were. He could see the vantage point was practically meant for them to not be spotted, yet, somehow, they were. Still, it didn't seem like they were missing, at all. Sneaker could see that most of the equipment was there, from the video camera to the laptop computer still turned on, it's screen displaying a text message said '_PREPARED FOR UPLOAD. STANDING BY FOR CONFIRMATION._'. The camera was still filming, despite the fact that it was down, because probably something happened. Still, it only fell once, meaning it was still probably intact. The backpacks with the equipment they were carrying were still on the ground and it didn't like they had been touched since everything was set up.

"Command, this is Sneaker.", the Ghost said, looking around. "I'm at the objective. Hetfield and McCoy are nowhere to be seen. Not anywhere close. They're missing."

"Sneaker, this is Command, understood.", Command replied. "What of the equipment? What's the status?"

"Equipment apparently intact.", Sneaker answered, looking at the devices ahead of him. "It doesn't even seem they were discovered. Still, they are missing. Request permission to retrieve all equipment."

"Sneaker, Command, request denied.", Command replied. "Deadline and window are too tight. Recover only the video camera, the photo camera and the laptop's hard drive. Confirm orders, over."

"Command, Sneaker, order confirmed.", Sneaker replied. "Still, I have a special request."

"What request, Sneaker?", Command asked.

"My cloaking device is almost depleted.", Sneaker answered. "Less than three minutes before it automatically de-activates. Request permission to deactivate my cloaking device and allow it to recharge."

"Request listened, Sneaker.", Command replied. "Stand by for response."

A while passed, as Sneaker picked up the video camera and photo camera and put both on the small backpack he carried. He typed on the laptop for the computer to shut down, and that the computer did.

"Sneaker, Command, request denied.", Command finally said after a moment of silence. "General Warfield says he cannot take any risks. Also, we already lost contact with three Vikings on the mission. I'm sorry."

"Command, does General Warfield realize the extent of _exposure_ I am on this mountain?", Sneaker asked, tense.

"He does, Sneaker, but there's not much choice.", Command said. "You'll have to triple-time to the mountain base. There'll be fast extraction awaiting there. One-shot opportunity, take or miss."

"Understood.", Sneaker said. "Equipment recovered, starting to climb down now."

"Affirmative, will be waiting for when you're clear.", Command answered back. "_Good luck, Sneaker._"

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, _HARKONNEN_**

Warfield was tense, blood pressure high, as he listened to the roar and horrifying screams running across the Command Room, as well as shouted orders amongst the squadron members. It was running out of control, as half the Vikings were lost. His fears were confirmed that there was intelligence by that Leviathan when he heard the Zerg went ahead and circled around, in an attempt to get the Vikings using those afterburners. His soldier on the ground, Sneaker, reported his cloaking device was almost out of energy. And now there was a new type of aerial Zerg at play, one that was doing something to those Vikings, but that Sparrow Zero-Two, Blair Casey, managed to take down before being caught under heavy pursuit.

The worst, however, was coming right from _outside_. From the high orbit of Char, his most trusted agent, Denver, could not open contact or anything of the sort, not even when the job was supposed to be done. Hopefully, he'd soon return to the surface on the Dropship where he went into, but, until then, it was all assumption. And assuming he accomplished his assignment, and that the _Marathon_ would be out of business in time to delay the departure of the Xel'Naga artifact, was the more easy of guesses.

However, Warfield also knew it was time for him to do his part on all this. And, on that, he meant to facilitate the way back. That was why he ordered for the said fast extraction, that'd involve a Dropship as well as a small ground support to cover the extraction process. The support would come in the form of a pair of Marines who'd provide cover fire as well as a pair of Banshees providing cover through barrage fire from their Backlash Rockets, useful against the masses whom doubtlessly would come for Sneaker. However, the meaning of fast extraction meant that it'd be up to Sneaker to save himself. Because the Dropship would touchdown, wait the maximum of sixty seconds, and then it'd be gone.

That would be the most risky operation and, ultimately, the 'enough is enough' one, in military terms. Because Warfield would expose himself and his position to the Zerg, most likely provoking them for an assault, hopefully a massive frontal one that could be countered with the artillery the _Harkonnen_ fortress had. But Warfield, as a reward, would also get to know what he needed the most.

Provided, of course, that Sneaker could finish the job.

* * *

**ENGINEERING SECTION, BATTLECRUISER '_MARATHON_'**  
**HIGH ORBIT OVER CHAR**

He'd been standing there for over an hour or two since the Battlecruiser arrived at that crimson red hellhole. The crew had been working non-stop, inspecting everything, preparing everything every ten to fifteen minutes. He, himself, had done this out of a paranoiac streak as well as from orders of the Captain, Richardson, whom insisted nothing was supposed to happen should that thing be brought aboard.

Yet, a paranoid feeling was quite normal, in Crestor Walden's opinion, when an alien artifact, known to have been responsible for decimating the Zerg on Char at a thousand kilometer radius, as well as neutralizing the once dreaded Queen of Blades, was being brought aboard to be transported for Korhal, the very Dominion throne world, where his Emperor, Arcturus Mengsk, sit comfortably on the throne guiding the masses of Men through the horrors of the Second Great War that now riddled the Sector. Walden himself had never seen battle first hand, and it never mattered to him. Such as his resocialization had assured so, since he was arrested on sexual harassment charges in Augustgrad itself, he also didn't question anything nor had any doubts about the Dominion he served. He didn't have any questions concerning the alien artifact, other than that usual worry every Chief Engineer had if the trinket would do something to the ship or not.

"_Walden!_"

The shouting voice behind, that belonged to someone doubtlessly behind a CMC-300 armor, had caught his attention as he turned around to see those two Marines, those stubborn idiots whom always asked themselves what usually happened behind those doors, invaded again to put another unnecessary inquire on something or someone to Walden.

"Were you not supposed to be on guard duty?", Walden asked, angry. "We are busy here checking if everything is in order!"

"Not everything!", the first Marine answered, shouting due to the furious roar of the engines all over the whole other sounds. "You've seen a Ghost around here!?"

"_Ghost!?_", Walden asked, upset. "I didn't knew there was a Ghost here, nor if there was _any_ aboard!"

"Some funny jackass teek got in here saying he was under orders!", the second Marine said. "We called the bridge and just found out no one ordered a Ghost to the section, not even the 'Cap!"

"Then why the hell would he-", Walden asked, angry.

**BOOM!**

The very explosion struck deep behind by the vast section with such a violence that it didn't seem like it was an accidental or incidental one. A giant ball of fire erupted, but that wasn't the only. The very section, even more than the rest of the ship, shook violently as a reaction as a loud alarm sounded off, by one of the engines. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only explosion. Four more explosions happened that began to let out enormous flame sprinkles from the Vespene hoses, enough to make the tank nearby explode due to overheat. Fire was pretty much everywhere as sparks from severed and burned cables started decorating an awful party and scream and shouting was everywhere. It was pure horror, one that Walden saw when he got up and saw everything on fire.

"**REPORT! NOW!**", Walden asked, raging mad.

"Damage to all turbines, Warp Core compromised!", a nearby mechanic said. "Sir! The Core is unstable, we're gonna lose it!"

"_Shut it down, now!_", Walden ordered. "Get every repair crew in here handling this! **NOW, MECHANIC!**"

The access doors opened as people started running in and outside of the Engineering section.

Amongst them, a shimmer walked, though it wasn't noticed by anyone running. Such was the beauty of chaos.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

Step after step. One hand after another. Cannot miss. Must not. Cannot afford to. All in a quick pace. Climbing down, unlike most people would tell, was more difficult because it wasn't just enough to reach that which you could hold onto, but also to control yourself. Otherwise, you'd just fall down straight to death, by free falling to a sudden stop at the bottom, as you'd slip. That was the problem Sneaker now faced, as he rushed to climb down, as the visor flashed again it's warning concerning the cloaking device. Only twenty seconds left as he continued to climb down at an accelerated place. Step after step. One hand after another.

He could see, upwards, the battle that raged in the skies. The battle in which three already gave their souls for him to succeed. The remainder would follow if he didn't hurry. Then, there'd be no cover, he'd be ultimately exposed. He would already be exposed, by the next five seconds. Then, he'd be surrounded, killed or, worse, captured and infested. And with the information he had, the Zerg could ultimately turn it against the Dominion that now struggled to keep it's foothold on the Zerg primary world.

He let a breath of relief that didn't last long, as his feet touched the ground. He was down. But then the cloaking device on his back let out a final beep of life before dying, the blue curtain surging around the ghost as he made himself uncloaked. Right at the sight of the ground Zerg whom were everywhere on the cavern, and quickly noticed him. Feral roar was let out as he started to run like never. But he also could see Zerg upfront, so he grabbed his C-20A, removed it's safety lock and started shooting all around. The shots were effective as they were quick, like in the training. Two of them hit a Hydralisk before it fell and others simply put the Zerglings down, but not dead.

The game had reached it's climax as the Ghost now ran for his life, getting down by the mountain.

All of them had been seeing as the fighters worked at their maximum to avoid the absurd, rather unfair amount of Zerg chasing them and fighting them. The trio had saw how hard they were trying to dodge the aerial Swarm as they used their afterburners. It was bravery so much as it was stupidity. Even though they could kill a hundred Mutalisks, Scourges and Corruptors, as well as the new strain that spun some Vikings to their deaths, these pilots knew the Swarm could breed replacements. So much Kerrigan as well as Izsha could see there was something behind that theater, otherwise Warfield wouldn't try such a thing.

Kerrigan got impressed with the power of the new aerial strain, as it was something just... different. Izsha, as she said, called it the Viper, something meant for capture and salvaging things lost. Though that tongue wasn't it's only function, as Izsha wanted Abathur to devise new ways to utilize the Viper. This, the halfling thought, would be a new standard the Zerg would have, that would put them in one common ground with the Terrans. _Pragmatism._ Where everything and anything can and must be made useful, in all ways possible.

One thing Kerrigan didn't like so much, though, was knowing those were the beasts that brought her aboard the Leviathan at the first time, as well as knowing those were the things that took those two spotters for a 'stroll', as Izsha liked to say. Izsha defended herself, stating the necessity of things, even though Kerrigan still wasn't that much forgiving of that strain. Because of what it could do, and how they reflected the way the halfling thought, it was just... bad. Worse. Evil. Something Kerrigan simply didn't want to be anymore.

It took a while to forget it, until, while staring at the battle, Izsha could feel losses of her own... by the ground.

"_Son of a bitch!_", Izsha exclaimed, livid. "_So that was Warfield's game all along!_"

"What is it, Izsha, what you're talking about?", Kerrigan asked.

"I just found a Ghost down there, running like hell down the mountain!", Izsha answered.

"_A Terran Ghost!?_", Za'gara asked, alarmed. "It must be a nuclear assault, then!"

"I'm headed down there!", Kerrigan exclaimed. "If he-"

"Bad idea!", Izsha interrupted. "He could just be a bait so they can snatch you from here! I'll handle this, you stay quiet right here!"

"He can get away, Izsha, and then we're gonna get screwed!", Kerrigan shouted, angry. "Let me try and get him!"

"_I said I'll handle it!_", Izsha roared back, livid, as she took a deep breath. "Son of a bitch, nice play, but when you mess with a Zerg, you get the thorns!", she muttered down angry.

"We had better return our aerial Zerg and prepare to take off, then!", Za'gara exclaimed.

"Oh, hell no, Za'gara!", Izsha said, somehow insanely determined. "Not until I teach him a lesson!"

"_Are you mental!?_", Kerrigan asked, angry. "We're gonna lose every flyer we got here!"

"Oh, this is dead serious, Kerrigan.", Izsha said. "And I'm gonna make it even more serious for that clown!"

* * *

"Sparrow Zero-Two, under heavy pursuit!", Casey exclaimed, alarmed, as she banked her Viking and steered left and down. "Hostile reaction is even more aggressive! Attempting evasive maneuvers!"

"Canary One-Three, under heavy pursuit too!", Canary One-Three shouted, desperate. "There's too many of them, can't shake them! Anyone nearby, I need help here!"

"Canary One-Three, Canary Leader, cannot help, I'm-", Canary leader said, when suddenly an explosion was heard on the radio. "**I'M HIT! I'M HIT! MAYDAY, MAY-**"

Then, nothing more was heard, but another loud hiss. Casey could only see the worse. Her too.

"Sparrow Zero-Two, Canary Leader is down, repeat, Canary Leader is down!", Casey shouted.

"All callsigns, this is AirCom, hold on for one more minute longer.", AirCom ordered. "Sneaker is almost accomplished, just one more minute!"

"We don't have one more minute, AirCom!", Casey shouted back. "We have to pull back now!"

"Sparrow Zero-Two, AirCom, hold tight.", AirCom ordered. "A little more longer before return is allowed."

"Canary One-Three, requesting assistance, they're all over me!", Canary One-Three roared. "I can't get rid of them!"

"Canary One-Three, hold on, I'm coming to you!", Casey said, banking her Viking, steering to the right, to Canary One-Three's position. As she arrived, she's seen the lonely Viking fighter running from a literal swarm of Mutalisks and Corruptors, with even more Scourges accompanying them. Her helmet picked up and locked on all sorts of targets as she fired another Lanzer Torpedo, getting the enemy attention. "Got them!", Casey exclaimed. "One-Three, with me! We stay together!"

"Canary One-Three, roger on that!", Canary One-Three said. "Where do we go!?"

"Ignite, **NOW!**", Casey roared as she activated her afterburners and flew away.

"All callsigns, this is AirCom, disengage, repeat, disengage and return to base immediately.", AirCom ordered.

"About time, AirCom!", Casey said, banking to the right. "Come on, One-Three, let's get the hell out of here!"

"Zero-Two, look!", One-Three shouted as Casey looked everywhere, to see a force of flyers moving ahead, to the base of the mountain.

"_They're going to get the Ghost!_", Casey said. "Follow me, we have to stop them!"

* * *

The descent was fast as it was the most exhausting possible. Still, he couldn't stop, as the Zerg continued to get on his tail, several Zerglings and Hydralisks and Roaches racing to catch up to him. The Zerglings were almost onto him, as he nearly reached the base of the mountain. The game was almost over, but it'd be, unfortunately, be either on the good or bad side.

As he ran, he noticed three figures on the horizon, closing in to meet him. Terran-made figures, that meant they were his fast extraction. However, a Zergling jumped on him and pinned him down to the ground. Two of the figures, each on each extremity of the formation, went into action as rocket warheads flew, letting out a trail of smoke as they flew to where the Zerg masses were. The warheads hit violently the ground, dealing explosions smaller than those of Siege Tanks, but still packing quite a punch, as the Dominion Banshees and Dropship closed in, letting out their Backlash Rocket packs on the masses with the intent of countering them.

The Zergling remained on top of Sneaker, pinning him down as he struggled to pull it off, almost clawing into him. However, shots were fired from within the Dropship that now landed, as Marines unleashed their C-14 volleys to get the attention of the Zerg aggressors. Sneaker wasted no time in getting on his feet and start running into the Dropship, managing to reach and jump to the ramp.

"The Ghost is up!", one of the Marines shouted. "**LIFT-OFF! NOW!**"

"Affirmative, lifting off now.", the Dropship's pilot, a female voice, said. "Good raising, we'll be able to speed our way-", she added, when then something grasped and seemed to pull the Dropship. "_What the hell!?_ _It won't move! What's holding us!?_"

The game was over. It was now a race, a race to the end of all of it, and two simple pilot fighters were now racing against a throng of Zerg flyers. They were headed to intercept the Dominion extraction that, no doubt, would come to pick up the Ghost. The situation had now become too hazardous to continue being a mission. Four souls lost on a game that the Zerg played too well. Casey Blair and her surviving partner were now returning to base, but they decided to head in the way of the extraction force, where they could know the Zerg were racing to prevent.

Casey's sight and instincts reacted in quickly reflex as she saw the Zerg were there, despite advancing by the barrage of Backlash rockets that now was devastating the base of the mountain. She saw the Zerg aerial flyers approaching quickly the extraction team. Red currents enveloped the two Banshees as they cloaked out of sight. As she saw that same creature, the one with the strong tongue, holding a Dropship twice as larger than the creature.

She made no questions, reacting according to instinct. She fired a last Lanzer Torpedo. It hadn't killed the creature, but the pain of the impact was enough for it to let out it's tongue, as the Dropship flew out like a slingshot, out of the range of the pursuers. She activated what remained of her afterburners as they flew home.

"**WHOA!**", a female voice on the radio said. "Damn, that was too close! Command this is Dropship _Oxford_, we're clear and returning to base. Sneaker is aboard."

Casey and One-Three raced home as they went out of range. The Banshees would've been caught, if any Overlord was close by or if there were no cloaking available. Every flyer turned around as whatever was controlling them knew they'd be in range of fast reaction air forces and anti-air guns.

Casey breathed in relief. Losses were great, but they made it.

They made it.

* * *

"**DAMMIT!**", Izsha roared, livid, her face stark raving mad as she grinded her teeth. "**SON OF A BITCH!**"

"He got away, didn't he!?", Kerrigan asked, angry. "I told you to let me get to them!"

"_As I said, it could've been a trap!_", Izsha roared. "That fekking bastard, he must be laughing out loud now!"

"We can still pursue them, Izsha.", Za'gara said. "Even if we lost several of our flying minions, we could destroy that transport."

Izsha let out a heavy breath, trying to control herself. "No, it's too late now.", she said. "Now they got what they wanted."

"Then we have to lift off now, Izsha.", Za'gara said. "We have to move somewhere before the Terrans launch their missiles."

"I'm not seeing any smoke trail, and I haven't seen any rocket move up high either.", Kerrigan said. "I don't think that was an attempt to launch a nuke."

"They may have not done it so yet, but they may soon, my Queen.", Za'gara said.

"No, at this range, this far, they'd have to paint it.", Izsha said. "It's something else."

"What could it be, then?", Za'gara said. "Why would the Dominion would send a single Ghost to a mountain so secured and clearly occupied by a Leviathan, if not to unleash a Nuclear Missile?"

Kerrigan had to recognize that the Brood Mother had a very good point on it. This was a bit too unorthodox for a Ghost to do, to simply take a few minutes and no nuclear missile to be launched. The question boomed repeatedly in her mind, as she looked at the Terran fortress where the responsible and survivors would be landing now. What could make Warfield send someone up there, to the point of making a distraction? A distraction Izsha worked hard to counter, even utilizing Mutalisks, Corruptors, Scourges and even those new aerial strains called the Vipers for the task?

However, this didn't last long, as the image of the Viper on her head made her remember something. Something from days, hours ago, before she even met Za'gara.

"Izsha.", Kerrigan called, as the halfling turned to face her. "Those spotters, those you took to a stroll. Where do you found them, when you got them."

"Up there, by those rocks.", Izsha answered, staring at a small amount of chiseled rocks to the left of the Leviathan, that led upwards. Kerrigan simply stared at the place for a moment before she stepped out and started heading on that direction.

"Where you're going?", Izsha asked.

"Up there!", Kerrigan answered, rushing to find somewhere she could climb upwards.

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER, _HARKONNEN_**

"General, we have a report from the Battlecruiser _Marathon._", the communications officer said. "The containment field generator is being refitted on schedule, but something happened to their ship."

"What is it?", Warfield asked, with a shred of hope on his face.

"They say everything on Engineering has exploded, and will need repairs.", the officer answered. "Both engines and Warp Core. It will take a minimum of two days before repairs can be effected."

_'He did it.'_, Warfield thought, as he released a sigh of relief. "What of our mission?"

"Dropship _Oxford_ almost to base.", McGrudd answered, by his side. "The Banshees and surviving Vikings too."

"I want everyone ready the moment Sneaker arrives with those things.", Warfield said. "Crack teams, analyzers, everyone! We're on the clock here, so do it now!"

"On it!", McGrudd replied, as anxiety went on high, especially on Warfield. Pretty soon, the truth would come.

And the truth would set him free from doubt.

But not from fear.

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

On the nick of time, this one. Though, I also confess, this was my least favorite chapter. Thank God we're now coming to the end of the Char arc, as now I can see it's dragging too long, for just some supposed three missions. I wanted to end it earlier, but that'd leave doubts and too much loose ends, even things people new to the FanFic would notice.

People would actually be surprised too that this is a first the Zerg do not manage to win this, but let's remind that, like Korhal in _Wings of Liberty_, it wasn't exactly a battle, but more of a raid. Well, let's say these battles, unlike those of Blizzard, aren't measured in the incompetence of the enemies, like the poor AI in both campaigns. Those whom played it could clearly see the AI could be abused. The _Engine of Destruction_ mission is clear proof of that, as, when you get to strike the first two bases with cloaked Wraiths, the AI doesn't even scan to reveal the cloaked units, it doesn't even build Missile Turrets or detector units, like Science Vessels or Ravens. The FanFic allows me to give a chance for the enemies of these battles, as I like to think not everyone is as incompetent like the AI. Being a General, Warfield should have had good battle plans of his own, though this one wasn't exactly a perfect move, like Raynor.

Also, as I promised, I started my research on Nova's arc as I've read the whole _Ghost Academy_ series and started reading Spectres. Well, was bound to, anyways, if I want to keep some credibility to stuff. So far, I've discovered several information that I've been ignoring and making one mistake after another. Like making one of the Ghost operatives a PI 4 when he should have a PI 5 minimum. Another's the battle of Shi on chapter VII, but that's a dream, where everything can be interpreted or distorted due to effects of Brainpanning.

Well, that's about it, nothing more to say on the matter. 'Til next chapter, where I'll try to make it more righter than hasted, as you'll notice from this chapter. Hopefully, it'll be done right. Hopefully... Meanwhile, comment, flame if you want, say I put better stuff, go ahead.

To next week, then.


	20. Chapter XVIII - A Toll Too High

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XVIII - A TOLL TOO HIGH**

* * *

The obsidian, starry sky of Char's night time flashed high, despite the orange clouds and the glow of the lava ocean in the Dauntless Plateau's peninsula and the veins and crags leaking the fiery, dangerous hot liquid. Still, despite the fact it was night and the sun wasn't burning as it was hours ago, it was still warm, and even the breeze wasn't _refreshing_, either. Still, the considerable decrease in heat temperature made it able for Sarah Kerrigan to continue climbing and sweat little than what she'd have from 'daylight'. The sky had come clear since the aerial stunt of a 'battle' was over a few minutes ago. Flying minions as well as Overlords resumed their tranquil patrol flights, but still Izsha had not rested calm since she fell for it and lost due to her 'playing' with the Dominion Viking fighters. Though, truth be clear, the Dominion played with her equally, as well.

Her hands hurt a little bit, but recovered as she climbed that steep rock where Izsha said she got those spotters. The suspicion had risen as she could figure the Ghost simply wouldn't try to pinpoint a Nuclear Missile, one where they could see it'd be launched from the facility. So far nothing had come out, yet. That Ghost was clearly after something else, or Warfield wouldn't have taken that big of a risk to receive a counterattack right at his doorstep. He was only fortunate the Zerg numbers weren't enough to directly assault the facility and he was safe behind all the artillery, the alien Xel'Naga artifact and other defenses Colonel Richter informed her of. And now the suspicion was growing more higher, as she could see those rocks provided a considerable vantage point for a team of watchmen or even snipers.

She at least wished she could've gone down there and get the Ghost, even if there'd not be enough time. Maybe there'd be a chance to salvage something out of that mess. But, as the mighty and _supposedly_ smart Izsha ordered, she said she'd handle it. Something that clearly didn't work well with that distraction. As she climbed higher and higher, she could see a more clear, yet disturbing view of how large was Warfield's stronghold, _Harkonnen_, as Richter told her. She could see the Dominion made itself at home with a considerable attack force as well as the imposing larger artillery batteries, that seemed small only by the distance she was at. It'd be more troubling than she thought to root them out, now.

By what Richter told her, it'd be practically _impossible._

She resumed her look back upwards as she now could see the edge of the rock as she finished her climb, something she didn't do since years ago since serving the Confederacy and the Sons of Korhal revolution. Still, given her superhuman condition, a courtesy of Abathur's evolution, it wasn't hard either. It even seemed like yesterday, though, on that day, it took quite a bit of an effort, especially after running and nearly _dying_ to an Ultralisk.

When she finally managed to come atop, she wasted no time in getting to her feet as she walked two steps forward, looking at the rocky surface and what was before her. All she could see were two large backpacks, no doubt filled with food supplies and equipment. Other than that, there wasn't much on the place but some loose cables. She turned around, then, to see at the vantage point, when she looked at the Leviathan. It was practically enough to look at the entire left side of the beast, as well as the giant insectile head and it's open mouth and tusks. With a decent equipment, a surveillance could be established for weeks, maybe months.

That thought sparked a light on Kerrigan's mind as she turned around, to those cables and the two backpacks. She started looking at those as she searched for clues as to what that sneaky Ghost searched for.

When she scavenged through the backpacks, what she found easily solved the riddle of virtually everything. A simple cable was the answer. Although it wasn't any cable.

It was one meant to plug video cameras to the probable field computer that they doubtlessly brought along.

* * *

**RECOVERY CHAMBER ONE, DAELAAM ARK**  
**CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

"She seems to be awakening. _Fast_, apparently."

"Raseac, Biblos, N'arkham... All were right. She seems to be stronger."

"One that perhaps she may be stronger than most. If only her sister could realize..."

"Even if she did, she would not allow. 'Tis understandable."

"Are you certain you wish to remain here? She may not appreciate your presence. Especially given what occurred."

"She will come to-"

"Wait, I saw her moving. She is awakening."

It had been hours since her entry into that chamber, where she had rested since. Too tired. Too wearied. Her eyes closed in relief as the machinery and stasis allowed her to recover from the ordeal she passed through. A long sleep, worthy a warrior whom endured the worst of days, the greatest of pains. Such was her own, as her mind assimilated it was a test put _too_ well. _Too well enough for her to fall._ She only wondered how she managed to get hurt by what was supposed to be Selendis' Hallucination. The way the blows had hurt seemed too real. For even Hallucinations were supposed to not hurt, only distract, as it was demonstrated in the fight against the Zerg, during the invasion of Aiur and the defense of Shakuras. At least, it was according on what she read from the transcripts of scribes and those whom operated the Observers during those pitch black days, when all hope seemed lost and the last beacon of light the Conclave was wasn't effective anymore. The days before mighty Tassadar performed the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of his people and thus deliver one final blow to the greatest abomination amongst all Zerg. The Overmind.

Lasarra felt her senses return as the conversation she heard close by, a quiet one, proceeded with her not understanding everything, such was the state of her recovery process. Her eyes returned her sight, starting with a blurred vision of the alien ceiling before her, while she felt the cold touch of the metal table she was lying down. She could feel her body rested and not hurting as much as it did those last hours. She notice she had nothing on as she looked down to her body, by the very empty room she was currently inside, within the holy Daelaam Ark. Slowly and attempting to awake, still feeling the burden of tire's grip, she raised herself as she sat on the left side of the table, taking a notice of her surroundings, seeing the stasis chambers either empty or with a Protoss inside, resting and recovering. On a nearby golden wall, she noticed a console displaying holograms of the patients' status and health conditions. She often felt wondered and, at the same time, regretful that she was inside a Recovery Chamber, a sick bay in human terms, though not as a visitor, but a _patient_ herself. She embraced herself due to cold and a small sense of shame as she started looking where she could find a minimal of garment or armor to wear. It didn't take long to see that, by a close, curved rectangular table, lied her former garments and armor, including her headwear and chest armor she used when she embarked the Ark for the first time.

She started to pick up the pieces and wear them, as well as the garments, though slowly and not bothering, though she'd be if anyone saw her like this, all bare and exposed for all to see. Unlike the Terrans, whom had quite a strong sexual interest when someone was seen naked, Protoss often covered themselves more so because of personal honor and such. Those with little to no garments or armor usually meant they had no personal honor or even pride. Pretty much like the eastern peoples of Earth, Chinese or Japanese, whom valued the length of hair during the old times when Samurai and warlords rode the old lands. She could feel the weight of the chest armor bearing down as she wore it, as well as the headwear and other things, covering the scars of the Psi-Blades Biblos had cut during her said trial.

However, as she put what was hers back, she also noticed something she _knew_ it was not hers. She noticed a pair of arm wrists that contained a blue orb above each, and that somehow fit her arm. On the other hand, lied a hole, like if something was meant to come out of it, like a weapon.

_A blade. _A Psi-Blade, the most revered weapon of every Protoss. The weapon of a Zealot.

She stared at those two arm wrists for a long time with a look of various emotions, from shock and curiosity to admiration and horror. She wanted to touch them, but at the same time she wanted to remain away from them. It was what she wanted, and yet she felt she didn't actually _earn_ them with her sweat and blood alone. A while passed before she decided to pick one of them to take a look, with both her hands. She took a long time looking at it, from every direction she could fathom, like a child exploring the new toy she got from her father and mother at Christmas. She simply could not believe she could look at it and even touch it with her own hands after so long, after so much denial.

A more while passed before Lasarra decided to wear it. She had her right hand fit in as it crossed like a worm through a hole, until the wrist piece could no longer. It felt tight and yet comfortable. It simply felt _right_. She had been looking at it, feeling the armor piece touch her once bare arm as it covered the gap between the hand and the elbow. Every new step was as mysterious and confusing as the last she took, but it was practically too beyond the point of no return to head back now. She looked at the palm of her hand as it slowly closed, forming a fist, and shook it a little, concentrating. It was when a beam of bright blue erupted from the front of the wrist armor piece, like a war blade, extending itself and glowing fiercely as it emanated psionic mist of it's own, a result of basic concentration. Her eyes widened at the possession of such power, the freedom of owning it and doing as she desired with it. She slowly moved the Psi-Blade around, admiring it while keeping her focus. It was simply too dangerous, and yet so beautiful. For a moment, she slowly recoiled her arm and then quickly lounged it, extending it like a straight punch, feeling the power between her wrists. She did it one more time before she noticed the single female Protoss standing by the very access door, looking at her. Suddenly, she lost her focus as the Psi-Blade shut itself off, the light and mist fading away quickly.

This second female Protoss was clearly one of Nerazim traits, with a body far more thinner than that of Lasarra. Her face was a skinny one, with serene glowing yellow eyes, her head and forehead being covered by a stylized Shakurian headwear, leaving exposed only her nerve cords. Her supposed mouth had a black face mask extending down to the silver-clad chest armor, that had two small blue orbs instead of one. Below the neck and above the chest armor, another clothing piece, like a scarf, covered apparently around the below of her neck. she also had a set of separate shell-shaped shoulder pieces as well as simple wrist pieces, though those were not meant to unleash Psi-Blades, all silver colored. Below the chest piece, her waist and belly seemed covered by wraps as a single, sleek waist piece extended a dress-like garment much like Lasarra's, though a bit more thinner and black as well. This new figure had been looking a her, her hands tucked together in patience for Lasarra to notice her.

"I see you have recovered.", the figure said, with a tone _too familiar_ for Lasarra. "And, apparently, you have discovered your new addition. I feel relieved and happy you succeeded."

Lasarra only stared at the new Protoss female, dumbstruck.

"Pardon me, but may I inquire on who you are?", Lasarra asked, turning to face her, and slowly walking, though it was not menacing.

"I am someone you certainly would lunge upon, hence my hesitation in introducing myself.", the figure said, as Lasarra ceased her tracks. "Though I also told you repeatedly, dear Lasarra. I told you it would end."

Lasarra felt nothing by then but a shiver of anger growing up as she looked at the figure, for reciting those same words. Her look grew livid by the second.

"_You!?_", she asked, growing angry, as she closed her right fist and the Psi-Blade activated. The figure did not even move an inch in reaction, only looking at her. "So 'tis you!? _That voice!?_", she added, angry and anguished.

The female did not say anything, simply looking at her. The lack of answers was enough for Lasarra's anger to arise.

"_Answer me, damn you!_", Lasarra ordered, furious, as she now advanced to the stranger, Psi-Blade activated and in full anger.

Suddenly, something happened as a flash of bright erupted and Lasarra hit something solid, not being able to move further. Surprised, everywhere she looked, she could see herself entrapped in a sort of a hexagonal dome of opaque material, that looked like crystal glass and yet there were signs of energy running, as small white bits ran around. A product of nanites deployed to form a Force Field.

"Use of combat weaponry within any areas of this vessel is forbidden and a violation, except if in combat or training situation.", Lasarra then heard as something floated around it, voicing out in a quasi-male robotic manner. As she turned see it, she noticed an alien robotic machine floating around and staring at her, with a large white-blue energy orb. A Sentry, one of the machines she was supposed to maintain and repair, before Raseac ever made that offer. "Please, deactivate your Psi-Blade immediately, or stand by for the closest representative to apprehend you."

Lasarra's eyes widened a bit as she could recall how it was to be inside one of those cells. She hesitated a bit, before deactivating her Psi-Blade. Shortly after, the Force Field immediately dissipated, though the Sentry continued to stare at her.

"Thank you, Initiate.", the Sentry said. "Please, make note that this is your first violation. Further violations will force immediate imprisonment and summary punishment. Excessive violations will force summary execution."

"Thank you, Sentry.", the female stranger said. "You resume patrol duties now."

"Command acknowledged.", the Sentry said. "Guard and escort duties rescinded. Proceeding with default patrol directives until new orders appear."

With this, the stranger stepped aside to open room as the robotic machine walked to the access door, that automatically opened, and then it crossed, turning right and going away by the corridors. The door closed as Lasarra and the stranger remained, both staring at one another. The stranger didn't change her mood, though Lasarra had a bitter look, demanding an answer of a sort.

"As an advise, Lasarra, 'tis better you do not attempt this with Preator Biblos.", the stranger said. "He is not as forgiving as I am, even if it is the first time you do it before him. Martial discipline and restraint are obligatory of a warrior to develop, so much as pain tolerance."

"I have asked you a question.", Lasarra said, coldly.

"You already have the answer for that question.", the stranger plainly said. "And I feel obligated to apologize to you. Though I wanted to assist you through that ordeal, you must understand that it was mandatory to not interfere."

"I have to understand?", Lasarra asked, bitterly. "_Even after all I went through?_"

"It was necessary, Lasarra, be it for you or for any other.", the stranger answered. "Protoss warriors are known to not fear death for a reason. They learn to accept it, with the passing of eons, as they grow in practicing the art of combat. But that is for those born with their role set as warriors. As you were a voluntary, it had to be more immediate and abrupt. A thing I still consider too brutal, in my personal opinion."

"And all that pain was _really_ necessary?", Lasarra asked, disgusted.

"And I would consider it welcome, should I be you.", the stranger replied. "To be injured here is much more better than to be outside. Such is what happened to one too close to me. He did not train as much as others, blindly believing nothing would ever occur to him. He paid a price too heavy."

"Is he dead?", Lasarra deadpanned.

"He can now only serve as a Stalker.", the stranger said. "Pain is often unwelcome, Lasarra, true, but nevertheless _necessary_. 'Tis the only thing that can make a warrior more tougher, enough to resist the claws of a Zergling or the Psi-Blades of one of your own you may have to fight, one day. Such is, unfortunately, the way of war. It begins with pain. It ends with sorrow."

Lasarra only stared at the stranger for a moment. She wanted to say something back, but somehow that female was right on her words. There was no other manner to toughen a warrior's body and spirit than to experience the pain felt and then getting used to it, getting numb to it. Be it on slashes or continued exercising of senses and muscles, it was as inevitable as the cycles of day and night.

"But did you have to do that to me?", Lasarra asked, sad. "Say words of hope to me, on that cell? Asking me to not _give in_?"

"If I had not done, you would be broken insane.", the stranger said. "The initiation process for those whom willfully join us often provoked more breaking than initiating, before we started doing this. Especially from within these cell chambers, specifically meant to disrupt their connection to your Khala."

"But I suppose you can break through such disruption to say your words, because you are of the _Void_, are you not?", Lasarra asked.

"Of a sort.", the stranger said. "But, even so, you have passed unlike any other had. You had resisted more than most. And you were willing to embrace death. Like a warrior would."

"_I doubt it._", Lasarra said, sadly. "I chose to die in my cell, and not in public, as my 'sister' wanted."

"But you know why you chose so.", the stranger argued. "You preferred to not deliver that satisfaction to her, like a warrior would. Therefore, you have passed the test. You are now an Initiate. One just starting to trail the path of warriorship."

"How admirable.", Lasarra said, coldly. "And you do this to all others? Coming yourself to apologize in person, after all you do?"

"Out a personal obligation.", the stranger answered. "Even more with you, after you passed that initiation Biblos himself had seen to it, something he rarely would do. And I can see he worked perhaps too hard to ensure you were not convinced this was a test."

"For a moment, I was convinced.", Lasarra said. "Until it faded when the supposed image of my sister appeared. I am only curious on how you managed that Hallucination to injure me with every blow."

"That was a hard work in itself, Lasarra.", the stranger replied. "Five High Templar alone were needed to form that projection. All working together, for something so simple."

"And I believed Hallucinations were not supposed to wound.", Lasarra replied, sarcastically amused.

"And they do not.", the stranger said. "Unfortunately, in your case, legitimacy was pivotal. Not only on this, but on every act performed. Like in the first session, when the Zealot Achenar called the Preator concerning the Tal'Darim prisoner. Or the screams in cells around you, when they were actually all empty. And these are only few of other many things we use as instruments of initiation."

"And you do not even feel _pity_, when you see all this happening?", Lasarra asked, disgusted.

"I felt, in my first times.", the strangers. "But I was forced to accept. 'Tis something that must happen, like the dawn of a sun or the rise of a moon. You shall come to accept it, too, Initiate. It cannot be soft, the forming of a warrior, but it cannot be too harsh, either, like it was with you. I feared you would not manage to come through that, personally."

"Is that supposed to make me feel some _sympathy_ for you?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"'Tis the truth, whether you accept or not.", the stranger answered. "But, like the Zerg, I am afraid, such wounds will heal."

"And how can you be so certain?", Lasarra asked. "How can you be certain I will let that pass, and eventually forgive?"

"I do not have to be certain.", the stranger said. "I never_ had_ to. I simply know. Such is the burden and gift me and my equally young brethren share. Hence the title that was set upon us, a title so much common to Protoss as to Terrans. _Oracle._"

The stranger then, slowly, turned to leave the chamber when she stopped briefly. The access door opened and remained that way, as she turned to face the Initiate.

"Your initiation will commence later, but you will want to head to the War Chamber to familiarize yourself with the place.", the stranger said. "Just do not forget your other wrist piece. If that is all, young Lasarra, without questions or doubts, for now, then, I bid farewell."

"I also made another question.", Lasarra said. "For you know my name, but I cannot but imagine _yours._"

"An injustice that, fortunately, can be quickly remedied.", the stranger said. "I am Laelna, of the Nerazim. And I am pleased to meet and be allowed to explain to you, Initiate Lasarra, of the Khalai. Until later, then."

With this said, the stranger, Laelna, as she called herself, turned around as she left the chamber and turned to the left. The door closed leaving a Lasarra standing still and alone, as the Initiate turned to pick up and wear her other wrist piece.

* * *

**MARATHON BRIDGE**  
**HIGH ORBIT OVER CHAR**

Captain Arrow Richardson, Captain of the Battlecruiser _Marathon_, was not having a good day. That was being reflected on his face so much as in the faces of the crew working under him, by the very bridge where he now stood. It wasn't enough to being sent to that hellhole so deep into the Zerg Quarantine Zone, to recover something that no one could fully understand to then deliver it to the very heart of the Dominion, the last of places anyone, even if he was the Emperor, wanted the Xel'Naga artifact at, as that thing could be devastating to Augustgrad or to the entire Korhal itself. It wasn't enough he was forced to wait for a moment until the laboratory was prepared to house the trinket aboard.

A great tremor, half-hour after the scientist's team arrived, shook the entire vessel out of nowhere, given even there was no battle going on. It didn't take long for Richardson to call the Engineering section to discover all the engines and even the Warp Core exploded without any reason at all, and, what was too suspect in itself, all at once. The damage had become extensive and required a priority on repairs before a warp jump or even a half-impulse drive could be considered. There was no assurance on when the repairs would be completed, other than what Crestor Walden assured that it wouldn't be today that the damaged section would come to a minimum of integrity. The _Marathon_ would be stuck and would not deliver the Xel'Naga artifact within the next estimated forty-eight hours, the deadline Walden requisitioned to perform repairs.

And now, there was Richardson, by the bridge, forced to handle an explanation to the last person he wanted to talk to, that contacted him demanding a status report.

"_What do you mean you won't be able to deliver the Xel'Naga artifact in time, Captain!?_", Richardson stood there, listening as an angry Prescott Maddox exclaimed by the holographic transmission screen, generated by the Star Map table. "Emperor Mengsk demands this object be delivered to Korhal for yesterday!"

"We _were_ supposed to deliver, General!", Richardson defended himself. "But then this explosion happens, takes out thirty-five of our crew and leaves us immobile, in both normal drives and Warp Core! What am I supposed to do!?"

"_Forcing the Warp Core would be a start._", Maddox said, firmly. "That thing, as I recall, is not so _delicate_ to the point of making a catastrophe every time a single screw jumps off!"

"You may be willing to risk the lives of my men and this ship with that thing aboard, but I won't.", Richardson said, also firmly. "It's not enough the makeover Warfield's scientists are doing in the laboratory to be able to house that trinket..."

"And why would you listen to those men and not your own, changing the matter?", Maddox asked, disdainfully. "Are they not capable enough for the job, themselves?"

"Those scientists have been closer to the thing, General.", Richardson said. "And I don't think I can find alternatives for a more reliable mouth, on that matter."

"How long until the engines are repaired, then?", Maddox asked.

"Two days.", Richardson answered. "Depending on the amount of damage, even more."

"_Make it shorter, Captain!_", Maddox ordered. "Whip and beat them, if you must, to double the repair speed! And make sure to lock the Engineering section, this time! I don't care if the people get hungry, thirsty or needy, or if you need replacements, no one leaves the rockets until you are returned to Korhal with the artifact! Now, if you excuse me, I have another call to make, Captain. Get to work!"

The screen went off as Richardson took a deep breath of his own. Another bad day, just like that one.

Just like the next two ones.

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _HARKONNEN_**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

Horace Warfield himself could see the monitors and computers alive, like never before, as the Command Room was occupied with technicians and operators, working around the clock to decrypt the information that the Ghost Sneaker had retrieved from that battle. It cost like any other, but the price would be worth it, for now the knowledge would be on his very hands. The knowledge of knowing the opposition that took his men out during that battle on the caves, and then a couple of spotters. Talking was pretty high amongst the people talking as the computer monitors worked non-stop to unveil the data. For movement issues, most of the Marines who'd normally be standing guard were moved out of the room. He, so much as McGrudd, whom was at his side, were impatient, but were also waiting. For it would come, and a sense of urgency wasn't that high, given there was no imminent offensive to yet threaten the _Harkonnen_ facility. Still there was the matter of the Xel'Naga artifact that was supposed to leave the planet, and that would be

"Less than a hundred men, two scouts and four fighters.", Warfield counted, bitterly. "For a little bit of info, I'd call it a price _too_ high."

"Everything has been costing too much, lately.", McGrudd commented. "Half the fleet, at least, to take the Queen Bitch down, remember?"

"Raynor took her down, not the fleet, Duncan.", Warfield corrected. "Even three fleets couldn't bring her down, and even surrounded, five years ago."

"Don't remember me.", McGrudd said, regretful of having to remember the conflict in Char Aleph again, at the very end of the Brood War. "Too many lost and had to run at the fifth wave."

"How long until we have that data?", Warfield suddenly asked out loud, fed up. "_In case you haven't noticed, there's a clock ticking!_"

"Will take some time, General, but we'll have the data decrypted.", an officer answered. "Three hours at least."

"Can't you make that time more shorter?", McGrudd asked.

"That's the shortest we can get, sir.", the officer answered back. "It's at maximum decryption speed. At normal speed it'd take at least a day."

"Three hours, then.", Warfield said. "Then, we'll know if our fears are true."

"And if they are, General?", McGrudd asked. "You'll transmit the proof to Korhal? Just like that?"

"I might not have a choice, McGrudd.", Warfield answered. "The rebel, fringe-worlder Raynor may not forgive me, but I'd be damned if I'd let her slaughter more people than she has with those monsters, all for petty revenge. Even if it's against a heartless bastard like Mengsk."

"It's possible she could've changed, sir.", McGrudd replied. "The artifact did some big time number, truth be told. And Raynor's escape is further proof, otherwise he'd still be here."

"But if she's back with the Zerg, what assures me they ain't turned her into a monster again?", Warfield asked, angry. "We'll be _first_ on the meat grinder if that's true! I can't have that, McGrudd! I'll have to transmit and then pray for forgiveness all night long. Sad, but true."

"I'm afraid this may be a problem, General.", a female voice Warfield was familiar with called as he diverted his look to the African-American officer woman, whom was standing before him like the other times when she had some news to deliver. "We have a serious problem with our communications."

Warfield glanced in a way quite clear that he didn't like the news.

"Is that supposed to be a _joke_, Janine?", Warfield asked, livid.

"I'm afraid it's not, sir.", the officer, Janine, as she was called, answered. "If you'll please follow me, I'll explain why."

Staring at one another for a second, both Warfield and McGrudd followed Janine to her terminal, where they could see the transmission waves motioning at a frantic speed, at the same time another screen was active, showing a simple simulation of the planet Char and it's two apparent moons, both in an orbit with the planet.

"As you're well aware, General, there are many planets and worlds with more than a moon spread across the sector.", Janine began to explain. "Korhal, Mar Sara, Tarsonis, Moria and apparently Char, with it's two moons, Eris and Ate. So much the moons as the gravitation approach to the local star heavily influence climate. The problem is that the positioning of the moons can also greatly interfere in long ranged communications. That was the case of Tarsonis at the apex of the Zerg invasion, where little to no calls for backup could be asked when the four moons have positioned themselves at opposite extremes."

"Where are you getting at with this, officer?", McGrudd asked.

"The same is happening as of now, sir.", Janine said. "Eris and Ate have now entered what we can call the blackout period. Both are now at the same orbit, in both extremes."

"And how this influences in our comms?", Warfield asked.

"Too much, and not in a positive way, sir.", Janine said. "Basically the communication between planets and starships is sending a strong pulse of airwaves to outer space as they travel at a velocity that continually increases, to the point of becoming nearly instant. The problem is that they depend on the gravitational pull itself to be launched and the moons, especially in opposite extremes, heavily interfere, because they so much take gravity as expel' it to the planet, to the point of creating a null gravitational zone in high orbit. That means that as long as these moons are orbiting on the opposites, any transmission we send will be in vain."

"For how long?", Warfield said.

"A maximum of two to three days, at least, until the moons break orbit and start circling randomly again.", Janine said. "Until there, I'm afraid we'll be on the dark, except with ships orbiting the planet, like the _Marathon_, or people within this world, like _Doom Hammer_."

"_If my suspicions become true, we might not have two to three days!_", Warfield exclaimed, angry. "Isn't there anything we can do to circle this problem around!?"

"I'm afraid not, General.", Janine said. "A boosted communications signal would allow communications for seven minutes, but it's a slim chance, ten percent of success. The _Marathon_ is damaged and repairing it's engines, and it may be too late when it manages to reach deep space and deliver a transmission."

Suddenly, a set of beeping sounds erupted from her terminal, as a separate dialog box with the words '**INCOMING TRANSMISSION**' appeared over all others. Janine returned and typed commands on the keyboard, asking to identify the source of the transmission. Shortly after, the answer came up on the screen.

"General, it's Maddox.", Janine said. "He wants to speak to you."

Warfield let out a sigh as he closed his eyes. He knew this would come up, though he didn't think it'd be that sooner.

"Transfer it to my office.", Warfield ordered, as he turned around to leave.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

So much one figure as another, by the very head of the Leviathan, stared at the Terran Dominion stronghold by the horizon as if they were waiting for something to happen since that raid. Za'gara had a brief air of concern, waiting to see if the Terrans would launch one of their most dangerous weapons at the giant Zerg creature, a nuclear missile. Za'gara, herself, had never seen one, though the tales of Brood Mothers as they shared the same link to the Hive Mind had astounded and frightened her at the same time. A single missile warhead whose explosion could cover entire regions, incinerating groups of minions and skewering the thick carapace of the largest Hive Clusters and the mightiest of minions, like Ultralisks or the Leviathans themselves.

Izsha, on the other hand, had been only staring at it with a bitter face, especially at the light of the defeat, if that could be called one. She never felt so played and yet so fooled, and only with a few forces. Defeat should not be a thing so important or impacting to the Zerg, but the manner how it was done, so few against so many, was what got on her nerves. The feeling of being played with could leave anyone nervous, in a human sense, even Izsha, given she was Terran once. And the fact that she managed to bring down four of those six Vikings whom attempted to bother her hasn't soothed her anger either. And doubt didn't do anything to help her out. Doubt on what could it be that Warfield was interested for trying such a stunt. One thing she knew was that, whatever it was, it wasn't good, like any information was.

One thing both the Brood Mother and the halfling had in common, though, was that both were on the wait as Kerrigan climbed atop that rock where Izsha got the spotters. No doubt she'd find clues to whatever it was that Warfield wanted, and it'd determine whether the next action could wait or should be done in a bit of hurry too unusual, even for Zerg.

"Nothing yet...", Za'gara said, fearfully contemplative. "It does not seem the Terrans will launch a warhead, after all..."

"_They never wanted to._", Izsha said, bitter. "It's something else, Za'gara. Something that made Warfield make a fool out of me."

"I hardly believe it would be your fault, Izsha, for a first.", Za'gara said. "It is of these Terrans, who are becoming more and more _abusive_ with each passing day. The next time they attempt this, I wonder, what can assure us it will not be with more of those infernal flyers?"

"Agreed.", Izsha said, coldly. "And only a few against an entire aerial force. It's _embarrassing_, just thinking on it..."

"Hardly.", Za'gara replied, coldly. "For a halfling whom can only force control on minions, I would say you handled yourself quite _decently_, in that supposed raid."

"You think so?", Izsha asked, frowning.

"Almost all of their flyers destroyed, to outmaneuvering them, is the accomplishment of a few.", Za'gara said. "For one whom cannot fight, I would say you earned a victory, whatever _smaller_ it may be."

"Excuse me, but what you've done exactly during that entire mess?", Izsha asked, disdainfully. "You even took the reigns of something or someone?"

"I could, if I wished so, Izsha.", Za'gara answered, coldly. "Yet my obedience to my Queen restrains my hand. Besides, I was certain that you could handle something of such your _size_, hence my aid not being needed."

"_Something of such my size?_", Izsha asked, her eyes tightening. "Clearly you weren't aboard when I humiliated the entire Dominion fleet on a small desert world. Pity there was no one else watching it, too."

"The _entire_ Dominion fleet?", Za'gara repeated, somehow mocking. "I find it harder to believe such _exaggeration..._"

"Talk to Kerrigan if you want.", Izsha said, not seeming to be bothered, defiantly. "She'll say it. It's where I got her back. Speak of the devil..."

Za'gara then, with a stranged look, started looking everywhere around her, even noticing Kerrigan, whom was walking and carrying something, yet she was continued to look around, like if she was searching for something.

"_Devil?_", Za'gara said. "Where? I am not seeing anything of this sort..."

Izsha simply let out a giggle as she'd seen the fooled Brood Mother continuing to look around, not knowing what the expression meant. "Keep looking, Za'gara.", she said, with an evil tone on her voice. "You're _so_ close to finding it..."

Izsha then resumed her look to Kerrigan, whom had a stern, determined look on her face as she approached the mouth of the Leviathan's head. She was only a bit dumbfounded as to why Za'gara was looking around, apparently nervous and with a hurry. It was only when Za'gara noticed Kerrigan come close by that she stopped and bowed before the Queen, reminding her of her respect.

"My Queen.", Za'gara greeted. "If you allow me to ask, may I inquire if you have seen a 'Devil'?"

Kerrigan herself didn't understand what she meant.

"What?", Kerrigan asked, dumbfounded.

"It was what Izsha said, my Queen.", Za'gara said, as she looked at the halfling, whom frowned at Kerrigan as the Puppet Queen looked then at her and realized what just transpired.

"You pick now, _out of all times_, to make a prank on her, Izsha?", Kerrigan asked, serious.

"Prank?", Za'gara asked, dumbfounded. "What is that?"

"A funny trick she pulled on you, Za'gara.", Kerrigan answered, looking at the Brood Mother.

"So what you found out, Kerrigan?", Izsha rashly asked, changing the matter. "What that Ghost came for?"

"You mean what he _already_ found?", Kerrigan asked back. "This might give a clue."

Then, she raised her right arm as her fist clearly grasped something she held. While Za'gara was at first confused, Izsha immediately got an idea the moment she saw a small bunch of cables on her hand, black, thick plastic extensions with plugs on both extremities, colored either white, yellow or red.

"I do not understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "The Terrans put up a fierce fight and toyed us, all for some small, simpleton power lines?"

"They're _cables_, Za'gara, but not of the usual kind.", Kerrigan answered. "These are video cables. And those were there, you can bet a camera was there too. So was a field computer."

"_A camera?_", Za'gara asked. "A device that records images? Do you mean the Terrans were after information, my Queen?"

"That about _answers_ it, doesn't it?", Kerrigan asked back, sarcastically, lowering her arm.

"But of what kind, this information?", Za'gara asked, dumbfounded.

"Ain't it obvious?", Izsha asked, feeling insulted. "They're curious about this place! And, more important, _who's in it!_"

"It does not make sense, Izsha.", Za'gara said. "For if General Warfield was aware of whom was settling here, why would he want to gather this information again?"

"I'm starting to think he didn't know about us at all, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said, worried. "I don't think he knew I was here, especially."

"Then we're in huge trouble!", Izsha concluded. "No wonder Warfield didn't fire a nuke, made up a strike or fired up the artifact, either! And the moment he manages to find out, he'll want to fire that trinket up."

"Or worse...", Kerrigan said, worried. "He just needs to transmit my image to Korhal and, in just a few hours, the whole Dominion fleet gets here."

"And Mengsk won't want to play_ lightly_, this time.", Izsha said, angry. "He won't risk you coming back, with a chance to rebuild, even if it's too slight. He'll hit us hard in the very first round."

"So what are we to do?", Za'gara asked.

"There ain't much of a choice, is there?", Kerrigan said. "We have to speed out of here, pronto!"

"That is not an option, little girl, forget it!", Izsha immediately censored, angry.

"_Not an option!?_", Kerrigan exclaimed, upset. "Are you suggesting we simply_ stay_ here? Warfield's got all the cards in the deck, for crying out loud! He's got the guns, he's got the numbers, he's got the artifact! And now he's got the information of who we are and what we want! We just can't fight him either, can't you see!?"

"My Queen is correct, Izsha.", Za'gara said. "It may be a matter of minutes before Warfield decides to fire the dreaded artifact. Char is already lost and cannot be reclaimed. Not now and not at this state."

"If we run, we'll also lose whatever remains of our credibility, too!", Izsha stood firm. "Then, it'll be impossible to recover any other Brood across the Sector!"

"_Credibility!?_", Kerrigan asked, angry. "I can't believe you, out of all people, is more worried with image issues than with our lives, Izsha!"

"Unfortunately, my Queen, Izsha also commands a strong point.", Za'gara said. "The more time the Terrans control Char, the less our Swarm commands fear and, thus, respect. The Terrans and even the Protoss, should they know, will start to think they can do all they wish against us, and all of it nearly unpunished. That raid General Warfield just performed against us is just the first of many that may come across our worlds, should we not respond to it."

"I don't believe it, you too, Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, angry, looking at the Brood Mother. "You know this stupidity will get everyone killed!"

"Not if we strike in time.", Izsha replied.

"Strike!? _At that!?_", Kerrigan asked, livid, gesturing at the Terran fortress in the horizon. "And with what, if you don't mind me asking!? We won't even have time to _prepare_, for all we know!"

"There also the issue of the second Terran foothold.", Za'gara said.

"Second foothold?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Za'gara. "We also got that other problem, too?"

"Those reinforcements that arrived through the Battlecruisers more earlier, my Queen, they were not meant for striking us down, nor reinforce the stronghold.", Za'gara said. "They moved away from this region, through the Bone Trench. Where to, it is unknown, we could not follow them due to those Vikings striking our Overlords down."

"_Great._", Kerrigan said, letting out a sigh, frustrated. "And now we have that too to worry about, because they can send backup, and they have somewhere else to run to, if, by some miracle, the stronghold falls!"

"Unless both are struck at once.", Izsha said.

Kerrigan, suddenly, had a burst of laughter that startled Za'gara herself, not understand what now went with her.

"_Then you're way out of your league, Izsha!_", Kerrigan said, shortly after, angry. "Didn't I tell you we can't even strike one place, now you're suggesting we strike at _two_!? We can't even be on two places at once!"

"Actually, we can, my Queen.", Za'gara said.

"Why do you say that, Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, turning to face her with both hands on her waists. Slowly, however, she began to realize what Za'gara attempted to say. "_Hell. No._"

"If Izsha's intent is to be done, my Queen, it is necessary.", Za'gara said. "I also wish to serve and prove my loyalty to you. 'Tis all I ask, my Queen."

"I can't just _trust_ you, Za'gara, even if you've done nothing to me, so far, especially with an army at your back!", Kerrigan exclaimed.

"Well, we don't have much options for commanding officers, either.", Izsha said. "As much as I hate, we're gonna have to_ trust_ her with an army."

"Funny, coming from a girl whom wanted her dead not a day ago, to the point of barking like a spoiled little girl.", Kerrigan said, ironically, looking at Izsha.

"And I wanted.", Izsha said. "But that bastard Abathur now proved a point in letting her live, I hate to admit. Now we got something she can be of use for."

"_As cannon fodder, I hope._", Kerrigan said, ironically. "Because she can very well make a move once you give her an army, for all I know."

"Then let's put the doubt to rest.", Izsha said, frowning in mockery. "Za'gara, if I give you an army, are you going to turn coat on us?"

"I would with you, if I could, Izsha.", Za'gara answered. "But I serve my Queen, and she ordered to not threaten her or you. And this order I will obey."

"There, you see?", Izsha said, gesturing at Za'gara with one of her hair tentacles. "There's your proof, she's a nice puppet just like you are."

"Very funny, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, sarcastically. "Though her strings are just a little bit_ too_ loose, in my opinion."

"You didn't get it yet, did you, Kerrigan?", Izsha said, staring at the Ghost. "We ARE going to get Char back. We ARE going to strike Warfield's nest and this new base and Za'gara WILL have her small, _temporary army_, if you're so worried about, to do the job! _Get over it!_"

"We don't even have time, Izsha!", Kerrigan tried to defend herself. "And we don't have our surprise element anymore, as Warfield knows an attack will hit him at any time! He'll be ready for the storm!"

"Of course he will.", Izsha said. "But we'll also have time to prepare. The two moons of Char, as I've last seen, are positioning themselves on each extremity of the planet, and this is sure to harm their long-range communications for at least two days. We'll use the next hours bringing back minions gone feral, getting resources and adding new numbers while we plan something to help minimize losses."

"By the size of their forces, I doubt we can get something in two days. It'll take a week for a number large enough.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "And even then,_ Harkonnen_ will be standing after the first strike."

"_Harkonnen?_", Za'gara asked.

"It's what they call that place where Warfield's nested.", Kerrigan answered, gesturing at the enormous Terran emplacements ahead.

"So you really _did it_ with the Colonel.", Izsha said, shrugging her forehead. "Please, then, Kerrigan, _enlighten us_."

Kerrigan then looked around, especially outside, by the mountain and it's rocks.

"It's better we do it inside.", Kerrigan said, bitter, letting out a sigh as she turned around to head to the flesh door leading deep inside the Leviathan. "No telling if there are more people watching us..."

Izsha let out a silent sigh herself as she recoiled back to the hole where she came from. Taking a moment to look backwards, to take a final gaze at that abomination sitting on the Dauntless Plateau, resting, she turned around as the mouth of the Leviathan closed it's gaps, though the beast wasn't asleep. It rarely needed sleep, at all, like most Zerg.

* * *

**HYPERION INFIRMARY**  
**HIGH ORBIT OVER HAVEN**

The access door opened the sight of the Infirmary as Matt Horner walked in, noticing how empty it was given there happened no battle since the one Phaeton, things were more organized and the shift of several medics were now finished for the day. The steel floor had been mopped off the blood that dripped off the wounded and now the room was more silent, though not dark. Only one or two of the fluorescent light bulbs were on, to keep a minimal of light for the one or two medics working the night and morning shift, but enough to not awake the patients on some of the occupied wards, whom were now resting.

The soft, slow steps of Horner's boots echoed across the entire infirmary as he approached the ward where a man in an orange mechanical suit, with a robotic wrench replacing his lost left arm. He was breathing at a normal rythm as his eyes were shut, like if he were resting after a long day of work. By his side, approached a female figure still in her CMC-405 suit, though her steps were more heavy due to weight, as she also looked at an unconscious Rory Swann.

"Anything on him?", Horner asked.

"I'm fine.", a gruff male voice answered as Horner noticed Swann was awake, just resting. "I'm in trouble now, Horner?"

"Hardly.", Horner said. "Good thing that was a light one, this time, compared to the other."

"Mind if you reserve me a brig cell for the week, playboy?", Swann asked, bitterly. "'Coz I won't be sure if I'll restrain myself the moment I see the princess..."

"I handled him already, Swann.", Horner said, firmly. "A left hook, if you're curious."

"_Not enough._", Swann said. "The blondie must've known we'd keep an eye on him. He gets me by a corner and shoves a tissue with the liquid the docs know on my face."

"Chloroform.", Lily Preston answered. "And it was in a dangerous quantity too, Captain."

"Then, all I know is that I wake in here and I find out the brat ran off the ship.", Swann said. "How much bad he did?"

"Big time.", Horner answered. "Now the civilians down on Haven know about us working with Valerian's crew. They're swarming over Hanson, demanding explanations. He'll head down tomorrow to answer the questions."

"And the Protoss?", Swann asked. "How it went?"

"Badly, and it was Valerian's fault.", Horner answered, letting out a sigh. "He pounded the colony pretty bad. Artillery, and we nearly got blasted by it. That's how the colonists found out about him."

"_Son of a bitch..._", Swann said, bitter. "I'm wondered you didn't snap on him, he deserved it after all..."

Horner let out a sad sigh.

"Truth be told, things with the Protoss didn't work out well, either.", Horner said. "They wanted to pick up a fight, one way or another."

"So, either way, the relations have gone to hell.", Swann deadpanned. "_Why I'm not surprised?_ So, playboy? Now what?"

"Nothing much.", Horner said. "Guess it's now waiting and getting ready for when the Protoss come in here, wanting the payback."

"It's more easy to just move these guys to another place, Horner, if you ask me.", Swann said.

"And where am I supposed to move them, Rory?", Horner asked. "There's not much places to run to, now. Mengsk, Zerg, Protoss, they're all on us. Staying here just ain't a choice, it's a lack of options."

"But staying here's stupid too, and you know it.", Swann said. "The folks down there don't have that much of weapons, and the '_Perion_ can't do much against a whole fekking fleet."

"True.", Horner said, closing his eyes. "But I'd be damned if I'd just left'em to rot, too."

"I second it, playboy.", Swann replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta get to work."

"Later.", Horner said, suddenly firm.

"Come on, playboy, I've been through much-", Swann started.

"_You're staying there, mister, 'til the all clear._", Horner ordered, firmly. "Either you say on that ward, on your own, or I'll cuff you. That's an order."

Both stared at each other for sometime, until the mechanic gave up. Horner then turned around to leave as Swann only smirked and let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, the cowboy didn't choose you bad.", Swann commented. Horner stopped for a moment as reaction of the comment, but then, shortly after, he continued his track. Swann then looked at Preston, whom was only staring at him as she checked him.

"So, doc...", Swann asked, staring at the medic in the eye. "Since I ain't going nowhere, anyways, what's on the menu?"

Preston only looked at him, even when Swann raised his eyebrows in some sort of hope something would come up.

* * *

**NEW CANAAN, TYRADOR IX**  
**DUSK TIME**

The steam of the simple steel shower flew high as the hot water touched and ran down her bare skin, as she eliminated herself in the showers of that hellhole whom had the guts to call itself a hotel, ironically the _only_ thing in that place that still had some value. She had been through worse, in the cold waters or waters just too hot, but this was one of the few comforts allowed in the urban assignments she was delivered. She didn't want to think anything else but what she'd do in the following hours, returning to the job she had been assigned to, so much as the vow she personally made to stop her enemy since those incidents. The enemy she'd been hunting, one she trusted the most on the old days of the Academy. One she'd be willing to follow again, before all that mess concerning Project Shadowblade began.

Gabriel Tosh, by then, was a Ghost student pretty much like Nova was. Both went through the Academy with only the difference of years separating them, Nova being the new girl while Tosh was the most experienced and leader of Team Blue when the team initiative began on the Program, as designed by Director Bick and his Superintendent, Angelini. Tosh seemed to be the most committed to serve the Dominion, putting a blind faith on Mengsk, until the Battle of Shi and, subsequently, Tosh's 'selection' to be part of a new project that'd make new, more powerful Ghosts. A project that ran out of control, and it all started with Tosh. The project so much affected him as well as his other colleagues from the Academy. Toom, Okyl... They were also affected, and it all happened because of the substance the Dominion hoped to control.

Because of Terrazine. Something that even Nova had breathed forcefully, and it tormented her. And now it was becoming harder and harder to try and forget those painful memories and all that happened. No matter the number of times she wanted to get panbrained, it didn't seem to back down, and only return more and more stronger. She made her choice to be a Ghost, to be a puppet. Compared to the torture of serving a crime lord, even more after the torment of becoming orphan by Anti-Confederate criminals, serving a said mad tyrant, that Arcturus Mengsk was often called by dissidents, was a more _sane_ option. All she wanted was to serve, to be a Ghost. So much that it often cost her team scores in the Academy, before Tosh straightened her up. Another painful memory. Another she didn't want to remember, but the Terrazine that continued to regenerate her brain cells always forced her to.

* * *

_She could now remember the moment she met the young girl Delta at the academy, after another frustrated combat simulation. No one worked like a team in that maze, they very place where teamwork was mandatory. Cistler did his own stunts and didn't listen to Tosh's instructions, pretty much like Nova did, though she proceeded farther into the maze than the others. Travski wasn't being himself, to the point of breaking down the moment he felt lost in the maze. The only ones that worked together were Tosh and Toom, and even then they got handled easily, not lasting even a second. Lagdamen didn't give a quarter, that day. The worst came after Hartley's martial combat class, with that slick Okyl shoving it on her face. Something that could only be explained out of pure, childish jealousy. As if that wasn't enough, she was the head of the very Red Team that always, somehow, got the best scores in the house, and liked shoving it on other people's faces too, but it seemed Nova was a more special case._

_On her way to library, on her way to perform her homework for that night, she thought she saw something moving by one of the windows, by the corridor. On the door of the storage room. It seemed like... a child. That startled Nova in most senses that she couldn't fathom. What in the hell was a child doing on that place? The only explanation was that he only could be a teep, pretty much like she was. But why would someone shove him into a storage room? Or was he hiding? All that she knew was that she wouldn't get answers just looking, and thus she approached the door. But the child had seen her too, and thus lowered down to hide in the shades._

_"Wait!", Nova exclaimed, as she rushed to the door and opened it, revealing the poorly illuminated storage. The child must have hidden on the pitch black shadows of the room, afraid of her, thinking she'd do something to him. Something Nova didn't want to do, nor even thought in doing._

_"It's okay.", Nova assured. "I'm not gonna hurt you..."_

_However, the kid was nowhere to be found. She even attempted to use her psionic capacity to track the boy, but it came with zip. It didn't even seem the boy was in the storage room, at all. That startled Nova. How the hell could he be there and then, out of nothing, disappear? There didn't even seem to be a vent shaft in the room, the only exit being through the door itself, where Nova was. And how did he manage to evade her tracking, she couldn't know. Could he have some sort of mental blocking, or was he trained too early in the matter?_

_"Okay...", Nova said, slowly and dumbfounded, as she, after a while, decided to forget, closing the door and resuming her tracks to the nearby library, still in her white martial class suit. Something that reminded an old robe of Japanese martial art tournaments, held by a strap on her waist. Both her hands were covered in wraps and her shoulder kept holding the satchel she carried with her. Her mind kept thinking for a moment on that boy, on where he come from and how he could vanish just like that, out of nowhere._

_The library, by the time she arrived, was quite filled that day, with people either reading the books out of their respective shelves or operating the nearby computers, loaded with instructional information and rigidly controlled by those responsible. The room seemed to be pretty quiet that day, not many people talking, as was mandatory in such a place of learning. All but a simple, teenaged girl whom seemed to be performing spelling lessons before the computer where she stood by. Something that Nova found too uncommon, even for your supposed Ghost initiate type. The girl had quite a slim frame, even more than Nova's, as well as a bubbly face, with brown eyes and a pink-colored hair, that tried to form two pigtails of a sort, but the remainder of the short hair was quite loose._

_"Spell 'Element'.", the computer's voice, a light male one, asked on the computer where this bubbly girl stood by._

_"E, L, L...", the girl started, slowly, enthusiastic at first but then stopping as she realized a slight mistake. "No, wait! T-There's only one L, right?"_

_"Correct.", the computer answered, plainly._

_Nova, having her attention caught more by the girl whom was spelling rather than the book she picked off the shelve, walked close by and leaned to her right, by the corner of the shelve, to spy on the girl. She didn't seemed to be talking to the computer, but rather by the small, floating droid whom seemed to stare at her for days on end._

_"Okay...", the girl said, anxious, taking a quick breath before restarting her spelling. "E, L, E, M, E, N, T."_

_"Correct.", the droid answered, continuing to look at the girl. Suddenly, the small camera within the droid moved, noticing someone else was watching it, and stared at Nova. "May I help you, trainee?"_

_Nova got startled by that, as she didn't expect the droid, nor the bubbly girl, whom turned around to see whom the floating machine was talking to, staring both at her._

_"Whoa, I'm- I'm sorry, I just was surprised by...", Nova started, a bit embarrassed, attempting to explain, yet failing. "I mean...", she tried again, when the girl only stared at her, and seemed fascinated. Seeing as there was no helping anymore, she only let out a sigh as she resigned. "Never mind."_

_"You're Nova, right?", the bubbly girl said, sounding enthusiastic._

_"Umm...", Nova hesitated. It was quite rare the amount the people, foremost new people, whom talked to her upfront, without any suspicion or obligation, should they be assigned to the same team as hers. "Yes. Have we met?"_

_"No.", the girl said, with a smile on her face. "But everybody knows who you are. My name's Delta.", she introduced herself, offering her right hand. Nova hesitated a bit before deciding to shake it._

_"Really?", Nova said, a bit dumbstruck with the girl's enthusiasm, that was perhaps a little too much. "Why would anyone know who I am?"_

_"You kidding!?", Delta said, widening her eyes and feeling a bit insulted by Nova's question. "You're a PI 10!"_

_Nova closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She must've felt like Sarah Kerrigan probably had, in the days she trained to be a Ghost herself, as her Psi Index made her a known name, a celebrity amidst the halls of the Program. Nova remembered, from what old Preceptor Soohoo said, that Kerrigan was a PI 10, too, by the time considered by the Confederacy the most rare of telepaths. "Uhh... Okay.", Nova said, trying to dismiss it._

_"Y'know, I'm just jamming for the test next week!", Delta said, all wired up in excitement. "If I pass, I'll finally get to be on a team! Won't that be great!?"_

_Nova hesitated a bit, but she also become concerned the moment this bubbly girl mentioned the 'team' word, and what this mostly meant. And, being the new girl wasn't as easy, at all, as she'd make mistakes and the team would be left embarrassed. Mostly due to her lack of experience and the other's lack of interest in teaching her the moves, as no one would want to be a 'babysitter'._

_"I wouldn't get too excited, Delta.", Nova said, as she picked one of the chairs besides Delta's to sit upon. "Being on a team isn't all that solid a thing, believe me."_

_"Well, Preceptor Appelbaum's real happy with my progress.", Delta replied._

_"Funny.", Nova commented, resting her back on the chair. "I didn't think Appelbaum knew how to be happy."_

_"I know.", Delta said, letting out a snicker._

_"So, Delta, what kind of a test...", Nova started when, suddenly and upon making eye contact with Delta, she felt herself reading through all of Delta's memories and thoughts at once. Memories of a suffering childhood, as a factory drone at the age of seven the moment her mother died of a lung infection, due to the facility's precarious conditions. Broken over her death, Delta's father, also a worker, dragged down into alcohol and Delta herself paid the price along. She couldn't go to a school and never learned anything besides being a drone, meaning she was a functional illiterate, never learning how to write or read. That was until a wrangler noticed her psionic condition and 'rescued' her, bringing her to the Program. "...are you taking?", Nova concluded the question, too slowly. Delta, herself, hesitated a bit before answering, knowing that telling something like that to one she was excited in meeting was quite embarrassing itself._

_"It's okay.", Nova said, sadly honest, as she rested her right hand on Delta's left shoulder. "It's not like it's your fault that you can't read. I've heard stories about New Sydney, you were lucky to get out of there alive."_

_Delta herself found herself trembling a little bit. How could she know all this about her? Unless..._

_"D-Did you read my mind?", Delta asked, a bit ashamed._

_"I'm sorry.", Nova readily answered, nervous. "It wasn't on purpose, but-"_

_"It's okay.", Delta said, a bit sad as well. "It's just embarrassing, really."_

_"No, it isn't!", Nova readily replied, shaking her head and trying to fix that. "Well... PI 10, sometimes, you can't help it. Especially when the thoughts are as intense as your memories are."_

_Delta simply lowered her head a bit, closing her eyes. Feeling she needed some comfort, Nova leaned forward to come forward to her. "Besides, in here...", the blonde trainee said. "It doesn't matter what you were. Just what you turn into."_

* * *

Those last words were what started something neither the two girls thought there'd be. A friendship. One that grew up when Nova even aided her on her literacy tests, a thing that allowed Delta to be part of the same Team Blue as Nova's. Those were the good times, back then, before the team fractured, the course was over and each and everyone of those people followed their paths.

'_It doesn't matter what you were._', Nova heard that thought again. '_Just what you turn into._'

That echoed again and again, reminding of her choice. Her choice to become a Ghost. Her choice to fight for something and try to forget the past that haunted her time and again.

However, as she came to her senses, she also noticed that she didn't realize how long she had been on the shower. She took a deep breath as she hurried to finish her bathing process and put up her uniform again before she returned to the room. Hopefully, given the amount of time she's been there, those folks in that mess of a living room would have done a decent job of straightening up that place.

* * *

**WAR CHAMBER, DAELAAM ARK**  
**CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

The very first moment that the young Lasarra felt, the moment she stepped into the War Chamber, a place fit only for the tough and hardened warriors of the Protoss race, was that she obviously didn't _belong_ there, no matter if she wore those Psi-Blade wrists or not.

Compared to those imposing figures, male and female, in their thicker, golden battle armor, much more well trained and with a hardened appearance, she looked rather small and fragile. There were also the stares some of those warriors gave, stern ones, all directed at the Initiate whom now walked across, alone, to find a corner that could be called her own. Even female Protoss were not more gentle and understanding towards her. For them, all of them, be they Khalai or Nerazim, she was a civilian and nothing more. She was not meant nor supposed to be there, were not for Executor Raseac.

She thought to herself if only these people could see what she went through to earn a place in that Chamber. But even then, they'd say it wasn't enough. It was clear she'd have to try _harder_ to earn her place among them. Fortunately, she wouldn't let the opportunity go to waste, either. Not that she had a choice to let it go, anyways. As Raseac said, there was no going back, now. The only option was to run the course and make the most of her training, until she would get to don her share of the very armor of all those other Protoss staring at her at times did. Then, she'd get to work and wipe the burden her sister's reputation was bearing down upon her. At least that's what she hoped, though now she came to earn a little bit of humility since her trials in the cells. Though she was aware that it was a test and that her sister would never actually do that, the cold, direct, hurting words of Selendis' manifestation made her think for a moment on what she'd been doing to the High Executor. Think on what if Lasarra only stood down and minded her business. Still, she knew this wouldn't do anything but continue to be more and more worst, and bear much more worse upon the youngling sister. Lasarra knew that the only way now was to master those Psi-Blades, and thus, her life, as Raseac had said before.

The War Chamber reminded more of a large cathedral than a locker room or even a briefing room. This could be explained by the larger rectangular hall, with two long rows of columns dividing the central passage and the sides into three, where the sides were rather were warriors devoted their prayers to their gods, to He Whom Brings Order as well as Adun, Tassadar and many other great figures of the Protoss society. Or they simply stood by, some of them talking to each other in murmur, or being serviced by Probes and servant Khalai whom looked after the armor of the fighting force of the Daelaam. The end of the hall, that didn't lead to the access gate separating the Chamber from the corridors of the Ark, that is, connected to a circular end, where shrines dedicated to the said figures of the Protoss society rested, in depressions to avoid cluttering the circle structure. In the frontal end, lied a sort of an altar with the statue of the mighty High Templar Tassadar, in a glory that the Conclave, otherwise, would deny him, for attempting to ally with those whom refused to serve the Khala. The center of the circle had an inlay with the half-moon symbol of the Daelaam as well as other eight circles around it, representing each of the tribes of the Protoss, Ara, Akilae, Auriga, Sargas, Furinax, Velari, Venatir and Shelak, in that very order. It was, by that altar, where the supposed higher officers were standing by, as the others awaited the session to begin. Lasarra could see Biblos and N'arkham by that very altar, before the shrine of Tassadar as they talked to one another, not even taking a notice of her. Lasarra, by herself, now was struggling to contain her grudge, despite the fact the Zealot Praetor would attempt to try and hurt her during the said training. Like that Nerazim, Laelna, said, martial discipline was often a part of the training as a Zealot, and this meant Biblos would generally try and berate or stir her anger, regardless of why, something she couldn't fall for. She was aware of the supposed consequences, given she savored some of it, and another turn would be as tormenting as was the previous one.

Lasarra could find her space by a corner of the right section of the hall, where she looked down and waited quietly for the session to begin, not bothering to try and talk to anyone, seeing as it would be of no use, given her current position. No one would want to talk to one whom didn't even belong there, for all she knew.

"You are Lasarra, are you not?"

The voice caught up behind her as she raised her head and then turned around to see there was one female Zealot, in full armor, standing before her and looking at her. She had a blue glow in her eyes pretty much like Lasarra did, and they seemed to be curiously more serene than those of Laelna. She had no headwear of her own, leaving her slim head fully exposed.

"I am, yes.", Lasarra said. "Why do you ask, honorable one?"

"There is no honorable one here, Initiate.", the female Zealot corrected. "Here, we are all brethren, and thus we get to support one another, and know one another. I am Disciple Naviri. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Lasarra simply stood there, dumbfounded, at the serene, uncomfortably comforting words of the Zealot whom now introduced herself to the Initiate.

"Equally pleasured, Disciple.", Lasarra said, slowly confused. "Truth be told, I... Did not expect any one of the warriors in this great Chamber to greet one initiated and so not belonging here."

"It occurs with most whom first enter this place.", Naviri said. "Even for one of such a harsh initiation like you. You need not be afraid, however. Here, as an Initiate, you are welcomed, nonetheless. Though, too, this does not mean there will be an _eased_ time with you, at any moment."

"I never expected that, in the first place.", Lasarra said. "Especially coming from the Praetor, he whom initiated me into this life, along with the Executor."

"Raseac does what is needed of him, Lasarra.", Naviri said. "No more, no less. And the initiation of a volunteer, one not born a warrior, into such a life cannot be soft."

"Laelna informed of me such, yes.", Lasarra replied.

"A Nerazim Oracle visited you, then?", Naviri asked, fascinated. "_Impressive..._"

"Not as impressive as when she revealed to be the voice that attempted to _comfort_ me.", Lasarra commented, bitter. "I confess that I wanted to deliver her all the pain I suffered in return. And that I would, were not for the Sentry standing guard."

"Like Raseac, she has her duty, Lasarra.", Naviri replied. "You should know of it better."

"Like Biblos has his too, Naviri?", Lasarra asked.

"Biblos, my fellow Initiate, is much more different.", Naviri answered. "Unlike others whom simply train warriors at the training grounds, be they in Shakuras or Ash'Arak, Biblos fights himself on the same grounds where those he trained shed the same blood. He knows what to expect of the warriors he train and he knows how to train those warriors to meet these expectations. He is harsh and contemptuous at first, one you would despise with all your heart, yet he is one you would be willing to follow to the doorsteps of the Queen of Blades, if needs be."

"Much the same had been attributed to the late Fenix, I remember.", Lasarra said.

"Fenix commanded and fought through example.", Naviri said. "Biblos follows suit the same example, though he is more harsh. His Sargas lineage made it so."

"_Sargas?_", Lasarra asked, dumbfounded. "But, as I last remembered, he wore Aurigan color."

Naviri let out a chuckle.

"He usually does so.", Naviri said. "Many times, our commitment to fool and elude initiated becomes so strong that even exchanging colors becomes quite _common_. Yet, your powers of observation are seemingly not lacking, Initiate. A small, yet good trait. And every good trait is welcomed in a Zealot."

"As is strength, obedience, loyalty, honor, duty?", Lasarra asked.

"These are _obligations_, Initiate.", Naviri answered. "With time, you will grow and nurture such, I assure you. Though the road itself will be a harsh one, I warn you first hand."

"_Warriors!_", a gruff voice suddenly boomed. "Close in! In formation, now!"

Having heard it so much as the other warriors, both Lasarra and Naviri walked out of their corner like everyone else, all to reunite and stand before the altar, where Biblos now stood at the edge of the steps, watching over all and everyone. N'arkham stood besides him, to his right and a bit behind. All and every warrior stood before the altar, even atop the inlay, as they all looked at the imposing Preator. Amidst them, hidden in sight, lied the Initiate. The Disciple stood right behind her.

"**KHASSAR DI TEMPLARI!**", Biblos roared, bravely.

"**KI NALA ATUM!**", all warriors gathered, all but Lasarra, whom did not know the salutation, roared as they raised their right fists in the air, for a moment, before they brought them back down. Biblos simply stood there, staring for a moment at the mass of warriors gathered below him.

"Our hour approaches.", Biblos said, out loud. "Not long shall it pass before we descend to the surface of the cold world we orbit, to accomplish that which we came for, which we trained for. A song now begins to roar across the stars. A song of feral screams, of beasts agonizing the most painful of deaths, of those touched in a way so foul being cleansed in a bathe of fire, of scars being welded together as the infection is cut apart. The song of the fall of our mightiest enemy. The fall of the Queen of Blades, the Terrans believe, was the end. _I say that was only the beginning!_ The beginning of when our strength, our pride, our honor and our homeworld are taken back from the claws of the Zerg!"

Suddenly, in a vicious, wild war cry, all Zealots boomed as their right hands raised high into the air, to then put them back down when the war cry slowed down 'til it could be heard no more.

"What we shall do, warriors, will be naught but only another step.", Biblos said. "Another step across the river of blood and tears that ran over our bodies for the last five sunturns. But now, we come across the ending of such river, and, after so much pain and sorrow, the final challenge will stand powerless before us. By then, our strength will be immense, our conviction will be absolute, our fury will be boundless! A land lost will be reclaimed! Loved ones lost will be avenged! Sacrifices will be remembered and enshrined! Foundations lost will be rebuilt, more stronger than anything known before! _What began with our pain shall end with their sorrow, this I can promise you!_"

Another war cry followed, at Biblos' motivational speech. All warriors gathered, even Lasarra, she had to admit, were inflamed by such words of inspiration.

"Today, warriors, our time comes!", Biblos roared. "Today, we rejoice in the coming oblivion of our enemies! Today, the words 'defeat', 'shame' and 'fear' have something to fear, themselves! Today, new words roar in the horizon! Eternity, Glory and Victory! And these, in the name of Adun, Tassadar and Fenix, I promise with my very soul, like spoils, such words shall be enjoyed, by those whom step forward! No more fear! No more shame! No more defeat! **NO MORE!**"

In response to these final words, the wildest war cry roared high across the War Chamber, one that even echoed across the other halls of the Daelaam Ark. A while passed before the war cry ultimately fell down and all warriors remained tall and proud, their vigor renewed.

"But for now, warriors, we shall prepare to become ourselves _worthy_ of such day.", Biblos said. "One of you, the most of all. One whom, for her first time, dares step into this chamber. Open room, warriors, and may she step forward."

Suddenly, Lasarra realized that most of the Zealots began to step aside, opening the inlay as Lasarra herself stood still, exposed before Biblos and N'arkham, who now stared at her, and then all others.

"You have heard the Praetor, Initiate.", N'arkham said. "Step forward."

Listening to N'arkham's suggestion, Lasarra stepped forward, though slowly, still she stopped at the center of the inlay. Biblos himself stepped down the steps to reach to her at the inlay, staring at her with those eyes she came to know during her time at those chambers.

"What do you know of the way of war, Initiate?", Biblos asked, in a tone she knew it was the same from the initiation.

"I know it begins with pain, Praetor, and it ends with sorrow.", Lasarra answered, with her honesty. However, a small growl of mockery echoed from the warriors surrounding her.

"You speak through the answers of others.", Biblos replied. "I want your answer, Initiate, your own opinion. Again, what do you know of the way of war?"

Lasarra hesitated for a moment as she looked at Biblos, circling around her.

"No answer?", Biblos asked, in a light mocking tone. "Do you not know, Initiate? Or are you _afraid_?"

"I am afraid of the wrong answer, Praetor.", Lasarra said, slightly nervous. "Of what it may cause."

"There is no wrong answer, Initiate.", Biblos said, as he continued to circle until he stood at Lasarra's front and then stopped, facing her. "With warriors, there is never a wrong answer. Can you fathom why?"

Lasarra simply remained quiet, staring at the Praetor, when, suddenly, he quickly lowered himself unleasing a sweeping kick, like a martial arts trainer, that made Lasarra, whom was caught off guard, fall to the ground, on her back too quickly. The pain of her hit ankles joined with the pain of the impact as Biblos quickly returned to his feet and closed on the fallen Initiate.

"_That is because wrong means your death out there._", Biblos answered, coldly. "Be it an answer, a move, a Psi-Blade slash, anything wrong can kill you. Many times, without even you noticing."

Lasarra simply stood there as she listened to the Praetor's lesson, he whom stood imposing and proudly.

"On your feet, Initiate.", Biblos ordered. "Get yourself at your feet. Nothing and no one shall help you pick yourself up. Now and always. For if you do not rise for every time you fall, you will die."

Gathering a considerable amount of effort and fighting through that portion of pain, somehow more lighter than what she expected, she got on her feet.

"Again. And I want to listen a voiced answer, this time.", Biblos warned. "What do you know of the way of war?"

"I do not know, Praetor.", Lasarra answered, feeling ashamed.

"Then at least have the _courage_ to say it, the next time.", Biblos said, coldly, as he then wandered around the inlay, staring at the other warriors. "That is the first step of learning. To admit you do not know. One too quiet, afraid to answer, or one with an invented answer will always be wrong. And such wrong will often tax a _toll too heavy._"

He then returned to Lasarra's front, as he stared at her.

"To the next question.", Biblos said, coldly. "Do you know what a warrior is? What it means to be a warrior?"

"I do not know, Praetor.", Lasarra readily answered.

"Try to guess, then.", Biblos teased, mocking.

Lasarra felt nervous, especially at the gaze of all these warriors, even Naviri, staring defiantly at her as she attempted to gather the courage to answer something that would not insult Biblos.

"A warrior is someone whom kills?", Lasarra asked, hesitating. Snickers of mockery, in response to the answer, started to echo across the War Chamber. Biblos simply stared at her, coldly.

"An answer much alike the others do.", Biblos coldly. "But at least it was _honest_. You shall learn as you progress through the trials. Now, to the first combat lesson. Remove your wrists."

Lasarra hesitated for a second before Biblos noticed.

"I ordered you to remove your wrists, Initiate!", Biblos ordered. Immediately, Lasarra followed suit, as she carried both pieces of her Psi-Blades.

"Drop them to the ground.", Biblos ordered. Lasarra then, released her hold on the pieces, the gravity pulling them to the ground as, afterwards, a sound of clanking metal hitting the ground echoed through the chamber. "Your Psi-Blades must first be _earned_ before you can use them.", he added, then. "If you can defend yourself without them, then you can kill with them."

Lasarra simply stood there, preparing herself for what would come next, knowing Biblos would do something like he just did, without warning. Biblos closed his hands, forming fists with them.

"Defend yourself.", Biblos said, before he lunged at the Initiate, unleashing a fast right hook on Lasarra's before he spun around and unleashed his left hand in a swooping manner. Lasarra, before she could react, was hit twice and fell to the ground.

"_I said to defend yourself!_", Biblos roared. "Do not simply stand still when an aggressor comes for you! _Block him, if you can!_ Again!"

Lasarra attempted to get on her feet before Biblos attempted to advance on her with his right hand, ready to unleash a blow. She could prepare herself, this time, and blocked his fist with her right hands, stopping it before it hit her.

"Good.", Biblos said, before he used his left hand to hit Lasarra again, making her fall again in, grimacing in pain. "But blocking alone is not enough. React quickly and strike back, and you _may_ survive. On your feet.", he added, as he walked back, waiting for Lasarra to get to her feet.

"Again.", Biblos said. "Block and strike back, this time."

Biblos then lunged again at Lasarra, following the same pattern. She now could block his right hook, but when she attempted to fight back, Biblos spun around again, hitting Lasarra as she fell.

"If you cannot block, Initiate, dodge!", Biblos said, coldly, as he advanced again to unleash the same blow he did before. Lasarra blocked it, but before she could strike back with her own fist, Biblos blocked it and pushed her down to the ground.

"Not good.", Biblos said, stepping himself backwards. "Again!"

Lasarra, fed up, got on her feet and prepared herself for Biblos' third advance, using the same pattern. She blocked his right hook and, when he spun around, she stepped back, perhaps too far behind, and then advanced to strike again. However, Biblos blocked her strike and trapped her leg with his, pulling it in and making Lasarra fall.

"_Terrible._", Biblos said, coldly, though he did not step forward this time. "I have seen Larvae fight much more than this. I expect to see better, in the future, Initiate. We are finished here, return to the group."

Grimacing in pain, she got on her feet and returned to the group behind her, picking her wrist pieces as Biblos simply then looked at the warriors gathered around. His look often seemed one of disapproval and disgust.

"Ketal.", Biblos called. "Step forward."

Lasarra then watched as male Zealot stepped forward, then, seeming quite a bit younger than the others. He simply stood before the Praetor

"Watch and learn, Initiate.", Biblos said, as he took his position before Ketal and then nodded. Ketal followed suit, before he lounged forward preparing to strike at the Biblos. The Praetor then blocked it and a brief fight occurred. Both Zealots fought with their own eons of fighting experience and training, epitomizing the feared fighting capacities of the Protoss. A game, more like a dance, of blocking, evading and attempting to strike at one another. A view Lasarra saw and aspired to such a level.

The real fighting, however, began when the Psi-Blades were activated, and Ketal striked with an iron, vicious will against the experienced Praetor. However, like in any fight, one was bound to make a mistake or miscalculation, and Ketal was the first. As he was about to perform a sweeping strike with his right hand, a Haymaker of a sort, Biblos lowered himself and pushed the Zealot back, spinning around to force Ketal to lower himself before Biblos kicked him on the belly, forcing the apprentice down. Biblos then jumped to deliver the final blow, when Ketal rolled back and attempted to counter-attack before Biblos blocked, got him and threw him to the other size of the inlay as he inflicted a Psi-Blade wound on Ketal's abdomen. The younger Zealot grimaced in pain as he tried to fight through the pain and get on his feet. Biblos, however, deactivated his Psi-Blades. Ketal followed suite.

"Tend to this, Disciple.", Biblos ordered. Ketal nodded and turned to leave, with Lasarra, Naviri and the others giving room. As he passed, Ketal took a quick glance at Lasarra as he walked to the exit of the War Chamber.

"I hope you beheld well, Initiate.", Biblos said, staring at Lasarra. "I hope you assimilated one lesson or two. Because, the next time we face one another, we may not be fighting without blades.", he added, staring then at the other warriors. "By the following hours, the obstacle track will be prepared. All are dismissed, but the Initiate. En Taro Adun.", he concluded, waving his right hand for everyone to disband.

With this said, all of the warriors, even Naviri, had turned around to slowly leave the War Chamber. Lasarra remained behind, standing before Biblos and N'arkham, whom stood guard behind. Biblos and Lasarra faced one another for a long time.

"I will deliver you _one_ chance to leave, Initiate.", Biblos ordered. "You were willing, but it is also quite clear this is not a life fit for one like you."

Lasarra simply remained in silence.

"Is your silence one of resignation or one of _persistence_?", Biblos asked.

Lasarra said nothing, still, facing him defiantly.

"N'arkham.", Biblos called, as Lasarra's eyes widened. The Zer'atai, however, picked a small crate and brought it down the altar, where he opened it. There, she's seen two golden alien balls with energy on them, attached to two chains and two shackles.

"You will train your strength, your concentration, your endurance, and your body willingness.", Biblos ordered, as N'arkham put each shackle with a ball in each of Lasarra's hands. "You will run across this chamber, again and again, until the time of the obstacle track comes. You will come to there, then, with the shackles on."

As the shackles were closed, Lasarra felt the ball was suspiciously light. The suspicions ceased, however, the moment N'arkham operated from the crate itself, and the balls, out of nowhere, suddenly felt heavy, somehow far heavier than the crates she loaded at the spaceport in Talematros. Lasarra could feel the pull of the shackle balls weighting down her wrists.

"It is the basic of Sargas techniques to train warriors, adopted and modernized by the Daelaam.", Biblos said. "The wonder of technology combined with brute force. These balls have a continuing cycle of powered nanites, that are generally harmless and weightless as long as they do not receive energy. When they do, however, they utilize it to form a force field more dense than that of Sentries. The more energy, the more dense is the field. And the more dense, the more heavy is the ball."

Lasarra simply stared at with an angry look, yet the Praetor felt hardly intimidated by the stare.

"N'arkham will supervise your progress.", Biblos said, coldly, as he slowly stepped out of the War Chamber. "You begin now. En Taro Tassadar."

Lasarra simply stood there, by then, the weight of the balls reminding her of the task given to her, as she saw the Zealot walk away firmly out of the Chamber.

"Better to start, now, Initiate.", N'arkham said, as he stood by the crate where the balls came from, watching at the fragile initiate. Lasarra closed her eyes as she started to run, attempting to fight through the weight of such balls, whom now were hurting through her wrists.

* * *

**NEW CANAAN, TYRADOR IX**

Nova herself felt quite refreshed the moment she was done with the long shower. At least it was a good thing that almost no one noticed her taking so long. Either they were too busy straightening the area up so that they wouldn't notice, or they didn't want to get caught up to the new boss, whom fired a round that nearly hit one of them close by. That was good too. Despite the fact that Tyrador IX was a resort world, she wasn't there to enjoy herself, at all. Not to mention that such always returned the painful memories of her former friends in the Old Familes, like the Calabas, Kusinis and Tygores, as well as memories of her own family. Something that haunted her again and again. And again she cursed that damn Terrazine for it.

She was nearly finished in putting what remained of her suit, only straightening up the combat boots that took her through the deepest troubles ever conceived. From the jungles of Altara to the near assassination of Emperor Mengsk, fighting Zerg beasts, Protoss fanatics and traitors to men. All of it with only three tools available. The first was her trusted C-20A, the issue of every Ghosts. The second was the cloaking device, also a issue of the Program, that allowed her out of tight spots. The third were her very powers, whom were mostly her last resort option, but weren't also that much ignored. Her most deadly was a psionic burst, an amount of energy that could be gathered up, concentrated and released as a large explosion. Though, too, that power was limited to those whom were proven to have the highest ratings on the Psi Index. People like the Queen of Blades. People like Nova.

As she messed through her already messed up hair, she could now see the room that was once a mess was completely different. Now the guns and other equipment seemed more properly stacked and stashed. The table itself only had the computer now, but it was all now in completely decent conditions. There was an air of cleanliness, despite the conditions of the room, but it was now more habitable. She could see Drake sitting on a sofa, absolutely tired, with sweat running down his hair even after bath, along with Omar and Tremm.

"Now that's something decent.", Nova commented. "Drake could use another shower."

"Mind if I go first, ma'am?", Omar asked, tired. "Ain't been on a water for like twenty-four."

"Go ahead.", Nova said, as Omar got up from the sofa. "Anything on Oni?"

"Said he was coming back.", Tremm answered. "But it's been pretty rough. The Liberal Front has made a surprise movement on the south side, right where the Science Academy is."

"Not joking as a pyro, Tremm, but it's just me or the damn thing's becoming a bigger and bigger powder keg?", Drake asked.

"I've been close to one such riot, so I can picture the idea.", Nova answered, approaching the sofa ahead of her. "Unfortunately, orders are orders. Until Mengsk gives the go-code, we can't make a move."

"Mengsk can't do anything else, for all I know.", Drake argued back. "Not since the cowboy did his stunt on the UNN studios. Now everyone's on the revolt, martial law is up high and everyone is trying to pick up scraps of the old man's decaying corpse."

"Funny, since when you became the hippie here, Drake?", Tremm asked.

"It's the truth, bro.", Drake said, raising his arms. "Shit's just got too thick to lay it off."

"We had better hope we're finished with the Spectres before it gets much more bigger, then.", Nova said, sitting down on the sofa. "Good, bad, this is at the worst possible moment, with the Zerg all at large and the Protoss closing in every time an inch closer."

"Lady, just imagining the FUBAR ain't that much of a good thing.", Tremm said. "Mengsk falls, then what? People ran by aliens, or criminals or terrorists ain't good."

"C'mon, Tremm, you served the Program before Tarsonis, right?", Drake asked. "The Emperor was pretty much a terrorist too in the old haydays. What do you think that fekking revolution was?"

"_You wanna get panbrained, Drake?_", Nova threatened. "There's no machine here, but I have the express method! You say or even think something like that close to an officer and it's a one-shot ride to the furnace!"

"_Hey, sweety, I'm just discussing history here with the good pal here, right?_", Drake asked, whom seemed to not even care of the situation outside. "I simply don't approve that much, unlike the crazy loyal ones, but they say that's the good times, right? Can't imagine the _worst..._"

Suddenly, the door opened to show a tired Oni, breathing heavily, probably in exhaust. Nova, Tremm and Drake simply looked at him.

"You ran?", Nova asked. "What happened?"

"Was nearly caught... ma'am.", Oni said, between breaths. "One of the informants became a double, he got paid better to tell about the people he talks to."

"_What!?_", Tremm asked, angry. "_Who!?_"

"Ford Miller.", Oni answered. "I don't know how they found him or how they found out about us, but now we got tails up our behinds."

"Do they know we're here?", Nova asked.

"Negative, I think.", Oni answered.

"_Be sure._", Nova ordered. "Check if they've followed you. What of Brahe? Anything on him?"

"Nothing much on the schedule, as the informants told.", Oni said. "There's only a lecture he'll give tomorrow night at the Academy, but, other than that, there's nothing."

"Then we'll start there.", Nova determined. "We got tabs and cameras, right?"

"Well, we have, but we ain't seen much reason to use them.", Tremm answered. "Besides, we've tried it twice on Brahe, but somehow he knows of the tabs and always managed to rip them off."

"Then he's in deep in this.", Nova answered. "And of someone in the Academy? Do we have anyone?"

"Only a girl, named Sydney Roberts.", Drake answered. "She doesn't look like much, but she can pull the weight quite nicely."

"Then we'll go with her.", Nova said, decided. "Tomorrow you tell her to get ready. We'll start from there."

"I don't know why to bother, it'll be just a lecture tomorrow.", Drake said. "Most probably he'll either stay on the office all night or he'll go home. He's been doing it every time we followed him."

"I'd like to persist on that.", Nova said. "By nightfall, every one gets ready for work. It's final."

Drake let out a sigh. "Alright, then, got nothing more important, anyways...", he said. "Unless you'd like to go out, I know a nice pub couple of blocks from here."

"_Very funny._", Nova deadpanned, as she got on her feet and walked to the door. "Oni, ready everything tomorrow. Good night."

"Where are you going?", Tremm asked.

"My first shift.", Nova answered. "I'm not in the mood for sleep, today."

Tremm simply frowned as the Ghost lady opened the door and left. He let out a sigh, by then.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

The moonlight was high as it shone high on the dark office of Professor Lionel Brahe. The old, shrewd and calm scientist had simply been standing there, relaxing by his desk, his eyes shut as the gramophone on the desk played an erudite opera piece, one of the few pleasures he could enjoy on that place as he contemplated his inner peace and thought of the following lecture that would take place tomorrow.

Also, he thought a little bit on the future that was reserved. A future that was fruit of a past of hard work and accomplishment, from one whom could see the potential where otherwise it'd be ignored or abhorred. The potential that would only benefit the society he now worked for, even though the government he was supposed to wouldn't so much approve. There was no conscience in him concerning morals or social beliefs. He couldn't allow any. They mostly got in the way of progress. They mostly got in the way to improve a people. Genetics, after all, was the key. And where was a key, there was a lock, the lock of the potential of men and women, waiting to be discovered and unleashed. Physical improvements now were pretty much irrelevant compared to the second attribute, limited only to a so few. Psionics were the new interest. Psionics could determine the fate of a battle or a political decision. The Confederacy and it's Ghost Program, which the Dominion assimilated after Tarsonis, proved that. Psionics could help advance technology exponentially. The Protoss proved that. Psionics could even rule entire species. Sarah Kerrigan herself proved that.

Unfortunately, such Psionics were the very property of governments. Every psionic that surged up ultimately became targeted for a race between either the Dominion, the Kel-Morian Combine or the Umojan Protectorate. Every psionic was ultimately 'rescued' by such government and trained and manipulated to become their personal political playthings. That was until the future came, some time ago. When a second product came up, from the irresponsible mistakes of Dominion tempering with their own Ghosts. When the product came up, he came to know the ingredients, and this allowed him to think on a much larger scale. The one he agreed to work along only wanted to achieve his revenge by any means, but he also wanted to advance his people. Pretty much like Brahe did.

Suddenly, a beeping sound erupted from the transmitter on the desk, somehow getting ahead of the music, that now reached it's climax. The beeping sound only made Brahe open his eyes and let out a smirk.

'_Every time, at the very same moment._', Brahe thought. '_Typical._'

He then inclined forward, stopping the gramophone's music by moving the needle that played through the disc and subsequently pressing the button on the transmitter. The device flashed a couple of times before displaying a holographic screen with only radio waves and no video, meaning it was an audio-only transmission. Something quite normal, for one working in the shadows.

"Doctor Brahe's office.", the Professor answered, as he reclined back on the chair.

"_Seems we got us a lil' problem, doctor._", an African-American voice, nearly Jamaican and deep, spoke from the transmitter. "_She did came here._"

"So the bait has clearly worked.", Brahe said, raising an eyebrow. "Do you doubt me now, Gabriel?"

"_Anyone can make a bait, brother._", 'Gabriel' said. "_Convincing her will be much more troublin'. She's obsessed with being the plaything._"

Brahe let out a small chuckle.

"Like a disease, even this particular thing can be eventually fixed.", Brahe said. "We just need to do this right, right?"

"_You put too much confidence, ol' man._", Gabriel replied.

"_My dear Gabriel..._", Brahe started, contemplative. "Some lack of faith I do understand. It's _human_, after all. This however, seems quite disturbing. I thought that, after I brought her back too, you'd be a little more trusting."

"_Bringing one back is one thing, brother._", Gabriel said. "_Bringing another in is another. She just believes too much._"

"Then it's all a matter of breaking the belief, after all.", Brahe concluded. "I have one thing or two to help her out on that matter."

"_She'd hardly believe it._", Gabriel retorted.

"She is very like a Protoss fanatic, or a loyalist, or like the very old followers of old times, whom followed men who proclaimed themselves _gods._", Brahe said, letting out another chuckle. "All that you need to do is to make the god _bleed_, right before her eyes."

"_She doesn't do it, I'ma afraid, doctor._", Gabriel said. "_She chose to be that._"

"Then it's past the time she understood the choice she made, do we not agree?", Brahe asked.

"_You said you wouldn'ta hurt her!_", Gabriel exclaimed, angry.

"_Gabriel!_", Brahe retorted, feeling insulted. "For the crying out of loud, there many are other things than just hurting people to convince them otherwise! One from the likes of you should have understood it, by now!"

"_And what're these other things?_", Gabriel asked, coldly.

"For starters, let's just say she needs an_ incentive_ before she gives up easily.", Brahe said. "I think the abandoned factory can be a very good start."

Brahe heard a sarcastic chuckle.

"_She don't give up that easy, doctor._", Gabriel said, in mockery.

"Let us make it an _obsession_, then.", Brahe said, indifferent. "After the lecture, if you please. You present, at the spot should do the trick quite nicely..."

"_You better be sure this'll work._", Gabriel said, threatening. "_You made this deal a promise, Brahe._"

"And I _fulfill_ my promises, Gabriel.", Brahe said. "All I'm asking is a leap of _faith_. I am sure you can do that, don't you?"

The transmitter remained silent for a short moment.

"_Yes, I can._", Gabriel said, bitter. "_But I'ma betting too high on this._"

"One thing I assure you, Gabriel.", Brahe said. "The bet will pay off."

"_You tryin' to read the future again?_", Gabriel asked.

This question was enough to make Brahe giggle.

"I don't have to, mister Tosh.", Brahe said. "I just _know_ it. It _will_ pay off."

* * *

**GENERAL HORACE WARFIELD'S OFFICE, PRIMARY OPERATIONS CENTER - _HARKONNEN_**

Everywhere he looked, before he entered, he could see almost no one close by when Warfield closed the automatic door to his office and subsequently inserted the access key. By then, the door locked and the windows, whom were transparent, were inserted a second layer that immediately turned into an opaque blue. Everything was practically sound proof, so no one would hear almost anything at all, should Maddox be shouting mad. How did he find out so soon, if he did, he didn't know. But Warfield couldn't just access it from the Command Room. Despite their loyalty to Warfield, most of them actually served the Dominion, and the news that Warfield ordered a mission to sabotage one of the Dominion's cruisers would rise up serious questions concerning Warfield's loyalty.

The General walked to the desk, where the laptop computer was beeping a call for a transmission. One that Warfield ensured it'd be transfered right there, and not to the Command Room. He picked the pen close to the report file, as the metal gloves of the CMC-300 were just too thick to press a single button on the keyboard, and used it to press a key. Immediately, a dialogue screen opened, where a video feed showing the arrogant looking Caucasian General with a mustache, though with a face like if he didn't like something.

"So, Warfield...", Maddox started, with a menacing tone. "You could've answered by the Command Room, but instead you _bounced_ it to your office. Are you too shy or perhaps the nature of the conversation is just too _seditious_ for the tastes of other people?"

"What the hell you mean with that, Maddox?", Warfield asked, coldly.

"_You really think I'm an idiot, General!?_", Maddox said. "You think I'd never know that it was _you_ whom pulled that stunt on the _Marathon_!?"

"What stunt are you talking about, 'General'?", Warfield asked back, with a bit of mockery.

"_Spare me the fake innocence!_ First you send a scientist team, whom says it must prepare the lab, without the Xel'Naga artifact.", Maddox said. "Then, a few moments _conveniently_ afterwards a large explosion damages both engines and Warp Core. Unlike whatever it is you thought of me, General, I can do the math quite_ easily_..."

"_But can you prove it?_", Warfield asked.

"Don't test my patience, Warfield, because it's quite limited!", Maddox threatened. "Were you expecting to buy a few more days with the trinket? What, have you grown so in love with it that you wanted to give it a goodbye _kiss_?"

"Me and my men have stayed all this time here, on this very cold ground!", Warfield protested, in defense. "Whatever happened to the _Marathon_, everyone can sure as hell testify we had nothing to do with this!"

"You may have played the smart guy, Warfield, but I hold the cards.", Maddox said. "Your stunt has not changed anything! The artifact _will_ be taken off Char for the next twenty-two hours, whether the _Marathon_ is moving or not! And the next supposed 'attempt' at sabotage _will_ be reported to Emperor Mengsk, regardless if the two moons are interfering with communications or not!"

"_We didn't sabotage anything, you bastard!_", Warfield protested, yet again. "Unless you've got some substantial evidence, I'll report you to him for abusing your authority!"

"And who do you think he'll listen, Warfield?", Maddox said, mocking. "To the General that backstabbed him by following the traitor son or to the man whose loyalty is beyond reproach?"

"I don't think he'd be listening more to a _plaything_ than a General who's got a more clear view of the situation!", Warfield retorted.

"Your view isn't required, General.", Maddox gloated. "_Your obedience is._ And, might I add, the sooner you accomplish the orders given to you, the more willing I'll be to forget such said stunt. For either you'll deliver me that trinket or I'll come there to get it myself."

"I find it hard to believe you can do it, Maddox...", Warfield said, all bitter.

"Then consider the nuclear warheads at my disposal as a token of my determination!", Maddox said, in complete arrogance. "By the next five hours I will have my silos constructed and ready to launch. Each warhead will be targeted at the external perimeter of your base, and will be launched by the time I arrive. Your defenses will crumble even before they take the chance to fire the first hit."

Warfield widened his eyes in the audacity, seeing Maddox was fully intent and willing to get what he wanted.

"_You can't just be that willing to slit our throats..._", Warfield said, in disbelief.

"You nearly slit the throats of these men under you when you abandoned your duty to the Emperor.", Maddox said. "Now, General, remember,_ the clock is ticking._ And don't even bother to attempt to call me, if not to inform me what I want to hear. I'll not call again either to remind you. My next reminder will be more... _substantial._ Maddox out."

By then, the screen shut off, the text 'TRANSMISSION TERMINATED' appearing on the screen. Warfield closed his eyes as he let out a sigh. Apparently this would be much harder than your traditional delaying attempts. The shiver that riddled his very spine continued to freak out. He just couldn't let go of the Xel'Naga artifact that granted him that impossible victory. He knew he'd need it sooner.

Much sooner than he'd originally think.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK TWINS, CHAR**

The weak glow of the chamber where Izsha, Za'gara and Kerrigan stood at made it somewhat a tad complicated to discuss a battle strategy for the conflict to come. Kerrigan was no strategist, despite the latest battles seemed to be a warm-up for the storm that'd decide the fate of Char in the following hours. She had little to no ideas concerning tactics, she didn't study at a command academy and even less commanded troops on the field before she got into that place. She also wished there was a scale model of some sorts concerning the facility, be it handmade or even a holographic one, but there was none of that. That made things even more complicated, especially concerning planning. There was also no map, no video, no recon photos, nothing. That meant what Kerrigan said had to be trusted. Or, better, what she learned from the infested Colonel she read his mind from.

She remained silent, for a moment, trying to figure out where to start, but it was difficult to concentrate and find a good beginning, especially when you got a half-Terran, half-Zerg Medusa-like female and a Zerg creature whom didn't seem to understand Terran ways of strategy at all.

"Well...", Kerrigan said, letting out a sigh. "I don't know where to _begin_, truth be told."

"You already said the name of the fortress.", Izsha replied. "So you can give us a general view. Don't let anything hidden, I want a full view."

Kerrigan frowned a bit.

"_Alright, then, if that's what you're asking..._", Kerrigan started. "Basically, _Harkonnen_ is big. _Really_ big, and well armed in any way you can imagine. Forget your usual military bases you see on the Core Worlds, Warfield's built this place to stay. The amount of artillery in there alone makes you feel safe, and how much powerful it currently is. Despite the fact Warfield's got the artifact, he knows that won't be the solution every time a strike waltz in, and that's why he prepared big time. The artillery turrets, Bombard Turrets, as Richter call them, were designed specifically to hold and pound traditional Zerg waves. Four barrels, meant to fire the same shells Siege Tanks fire, but with greater range and velocity. But he's not only betting on it. He's got flamethrower turrets, autoguns, emplacements and even Bunkers for breaching cases. So much the walls as the big structure we get to see, the main command center of the fortress, are made of thick layers of fortified Durasteel, meant to hold against everything except Kaiser Blades. Other than these, even acid won't get lucky breaching through those. Only the gates don't have that much armor, but still they got enough armor to resist spines and acid."

Izsha nodded, as if she understood it. Za'gara remained still, simply looking. "Go on.", the halfling said.

"Other than artillery and emplacements, the place is heavily populated.", Kerrigan continued. "More than six thousand lie within the walls, ninety-seven percent of which are military, ranging from rookies to surviving veterans of the Brood War. Vehicles of multiple sizes and functions at the plenty, from Hellions and Vultures to Siege Tanks and huge machines called Thors. There are multiple guard duty shifts, exchanges every six hours. Many of them sleep in the underground quarters, beneath the plating of the superstructure. Entrances are rigidly controlled and limited to only four elevator shafts, so there's little chance for an infestation occurrence. Medical exams occur twice a day, at morning and at night."

"Anti-Air?", Izsha asked.

"Twenty Viking and Wraith squadrons always remain on hot standby, along with five Banshee squadrons for ground support.", Kerrigan answered. "On the ground, multiple Missile Turrets with enhancements for multiple rocket pack launch and self-reloading. But the most troubling are the base turrets, these carry explosive fragmentation cannons that explode into superheated shrapnel when they hit a target or after ten meters high. These turrets can so much attack air as well as ground, explaining why most of them can be found close to the Bombard Turrets. So an aerial assault is viable, but it'll cost heavily."

"Perhaps _less_ than a ground assault.", Izsha said. "But mustering an aerial force may take longer, time we just won't have."

"A ground assault in itself is already an issue, in anyway you look at it.", Kerrigan said. "Like you said when you arrived, Warfield's got spotters everywhere he needs a nuke on any Hive Cluster we try to settle in. Not only this, but Warfield also brought in new weapons from old favors he got from Umojans and Kel-Morians."

"_Old favors?_", Izsha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah.", Kerrigan agreed. "Mengsk, apparently, didn't forgive the fact his General ventured with Valerian, even if that managed to defeat the Zerg here. These equipment are pretty new, and equally dangerous. One of them that I've seen, on the caves, is one such equipment. They call it the Battle Hellion, Hellbat, for short. It picks the transformation process from the Vikings and turns a fast running buggy into an effective shock trooper, more armored and more effective than Firebats."

"And the others?", Izsha asked.

"They're called Widow Mines and Warhounds.", Kerrigan answered. "The Warhound is more of a direct assault walker, though it's weaponry wasn't that much. Still, Richter said, Warfield ordered those things refit, more guns to take on Zerg. The Widow Mine, however, Richter says it's a new type of mine, state of the art. It doesn't explode like other mines, but instead launches an explosive warhead powerful enough to take on an Ultralisk. It's not actually a mine, it's more of a moving turret in itself."

"Great...", Izsha said. "_Like if the damn Spider Mines weren't bad news enough..._ And the infrastructure?"

"That's what's got me bothered the most.", Kerrigan said. "Warfield has a good number of factories underground, not to mention Vespene and mineral processors. The power plants are underground, too, so we can't just sabotage it and hope the defenses go down. Plus, they have checkpoints meant to prevent infiltration attempts."

"Judging by your saying, it doesn't even seem like there's a weakness around...", Izsha said, letting out a sigh. "Warfield did his homework on this one."

"There's only one flaw, but unfortunately it's also the most defended and secured.", Kerrigan said. "The Primary Operations Center, the very heart of _Harkonnen_. Warfield centralized most functions of the base, including automated defenses and the gate access, but he did it being sure it wasn't a weak spot. The Primary Operations Center has an independent power plant, heavy security and checkpoints that verify everyone coming in or out in three stages: A X-Ray scan, eye scanning and blood test. Access to the reactor or sensitive areas, like the facility security station and the Command Room are only granted with authorized access. Not to mention that the only way to lower the gates and deactivate the guns is in the Command Room, right where Warfield orchestrates all operations himself."

"_In resume, we're in deep shit._", Izsha said. "And the only way is through a frontal attack, which Warfield is confident we won't do it..."

"...because of the damn artifact.", Kerrigan concluded, sad. "And all he has to do is hold a few minutes until it's primed and ready to fire."

"Can we not utilize Nydus Worms, my Queen?", Za'gara finally asked. "Thus taking them by surprise?"

"Warfield took care of that too, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said. "He's got separate response teams ready to respond to such emergencies, not to mention he's put underground sensors one hundred meters in all directions."

"What of utilizing sacs from the Leviathan, Izsha?", Za'gara said. "It would be simply fast and sudden, Warfield would not react in time."

"It could work.", Kerrigan said, a small light coming up on her. "_Maybe._"

"That wouldn't be a bad idea, weren't for the fact he can reprogram the nukes for a ground to orbit counter attack.", Izsha said. "We also have only one hundred sacs ready to deploy, many of the drops would fall in the lava and another wave would take two hours."

"And the Leviathan?", Kerrigan asked. "Couldn't we just hit with it?"

"Warfield can reprogram the nukes and launch them all at us, even before we reach it, because of our size.", Izsha said. "The ship wouldn't make it."

"_Damn._", Kerrigan cursed. "You could at least _lie_ a little on it, say something could work, though it's high probable it won't do crap."

"False hopes just ain't my selling line, little girl...", Izsha said, attempting to think on the matter as well. "Well... _I'm out of ideas._"

"Me too.", Kerrigan said.

"Guess it's striking hard, then, and taking the heavy toll of it.", Izsha said.

"Warfield still has the artifact.", Kerrigan said. "Not to mention the spotters for the nukes."

"If we take those out, then, we may have a chance.", Izsha concluded. "Too slim, but it's better than nothing."

"Yeah.", Kerrigan agreed. "This will surely be bloody. So, now what?"

"It's preparing.", Izsha said. "Building up the siege army while we figure out what we do concerning the artifact. All in less than two days."

"I would like to begin and start reuniting the feral Zerg spread on this world, bringing them back to the fold, with your permission.", Za'gara said.

"Won't Warfield suspect anything?", Kerrigan asked.

"There is nothing more to suspect, my Queen.", Za'gara replied. "He has information of whom we are and what we want."

"True.", Izsha said. "Going sneaky now won't make a difference. Now it's about getting ready for the worse. Do it, Za'gara."

"I obey my Queen, not you, Izsha.", Za'gara reminded.

"_Not now, Za'gara._", Kerrigan said. "Just do it."

Za'gara bowed as she turned around to leave the chamber, leaving Kerrigan and Izsha alone.

"You should rest.", Izsha said. "I'll handle the resource collection. We'll need a pretty big cache for when the mess starts."

"I've got nothing more to do, Izsha.", Kerrigan said.

"It's too simple and simpleminded, even for you.", Izsha retorted. "Besides I'll have to spend time thinking on the matter, and how to make it easier. You can go."

"Alright, then.", Kerrigan said, as she turned around to leave, to the chamber where the Umojan Dropship she came from still remained there. "You knew this, didn't you?", she suddenly asked, turning around. "That we wouldn't be able to turn the tide here?"

"Actually, I held some hope we could do something, Kerrigan.", Izsha answered. "But then comes these reinforcements, this little stunt and then they turn it all to hell."

"Point taken.", Kerrigan said, turning around and starting to walk. "Well... See you later."

In the end, only Izsha remained there, with her doubts and worries on how everything suddenly, out of nowhere, went wrong, and nothing would seem to make it better.

"_Fekk._", she cursed, as she recoiled back to the access hole.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

He'd been standing there for nearly an hour as he oversaw everything that happened on the Command Room. He stood there as he waited for the information to be decrypted. He didn't had anything to eat or drink and he could feel the anxiety coming up his heart. Warfield was probably now defending himself against Maddox, either pointing a finger or making an inquiry, he couldn't know. That left him right there, hoping there'd be some answers that no doubt needed solving.

"Sir!", one of the officers shouted ahead. "It's done. Decryption complete."

"_About time!_", McGrudd said. "Put it on screen."

"Shouldn't we call General Warfield first?", another officer asked.

"He's already too busy covering our arses against that prick Maddox.", McGrudd answered. "He'll be pissed and will want answers by the time he returns here. Now, please, the video."

"Affirmative.", the first officer replied. "On screen."

The central large screen ahead of McGrudd changed then to the video feed of the camera where the lost spotters, Hetfield and McCoy, have been filming concerning the beast itself. McGrudd himself could now watch the enormous size of the Leviathan as one of them filmed around, noticing the smaller Zerg, whom should've been feral, were not even reacting, like if they were standing guard. This was hardly a good news, McGrudd thought. Either they've been got used to one another, being feral, or they were at a leash. Most probably the second option.

This changed when the view diverted to the head of the beast, on the very supposed mouth, when a new type of Zerg never seen before by anyone. It was Zerg and yet it was uncomfortably Terran, with several feminine traits like a slim torso frame above the hanging snake-like lower body, without any legs or other features. There were also tentacles over the head that attempted to simulate hair, another potential evidence. The more disturbing, however, was the face, with eyes and lips doubtlessly human, as well as a face that had every curve and feature, except it had no ears or even a nose.

This very sight left McGrudd intrigued. Perhaps it seemed she was the responsible for what happened to those men, by the caves. A new player, apparently, perhaps one of Kerrigan's sick projects from her times as the Queen of Blades, before her fall. This was a bit of a relieve, but it may also be troubling news. It could be that Kerrigan personally trained this lady to lead the Swarm in her place. That must mean that Kerrigan was aware she could fall the moment she's seen Raynor and Valerian's fleet enter and invade the planet. A contingency plan.

"_At least it's not Kerrigan..._", McGrudd muttered, before he's seen another sight approached the supposed half-Zerg, half-Terran. A sight that was enough to make the British officer regret his last said words and widen his eyes, as everyone in the Command Room looked at the image and murmur and small gasps echoed, of shock, surprise and horror.

An image of a Terran person, standing before it, not seemingly infested, but the figure remained the same. The hair remained the same, even though it was strapped like a ponytail. She had no traces of her infestation, only wearing a skimpy environment suit, but her imposing stature remained the same.

Duncan McGrudd, so much as everyone in the Command Room, could feel his heart accelerate and all thoughts vanish as they all saw the figure of Sarah Kerrigan, at the mouth of that Leviathan. There were no more doubts, by then. It was all now clear.

She was back. And, worse, she was back and leading the Zerg. And they, those Dominion whom now stepped on that fiery volcanic world, would be the target.

"**SOMEONE GET WARFIELD OVER HERE!**", McGrudd roared, his eyes wide. "**NOW!**"

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

And, another chapter finished, right on the nick of time. So far the only thing that I didn't like was that ending to Kerrigan's explanation concerning Warfield's fortress. But, other than that, it's been quite a progress, especially on the Nova and Lasarra's arcs. I'll probably begin to work next on Henderson and Hardscape arcs, pretty soon. Or perhaps after Warfield's siege on the fortress, I don't know, there's too much ground to cover, as there'll still be Kaldir and Zerus to deal with, concerning Kerrigan. Timing is everything, after all, and one event too late or too early can quite ruin it. Those more active and likely to appear, therefore, are Nova, Lasarra and, of course, Kerrigan.

But also, that thing that I didn't like the ending of Kerrigan's explanation on Harkonnen was that I wanted to make this something to the brains, unlike the official HotS mission, which the gates could be easily broken, there were no substantial defenses at all, not even anti-air, not to mention the AI made these nukes fall in the goofiest places possible. The fortress here, on HotS, is more menacing and more powerful because I put my faith in Warfield's competence. And thus, being everything so well defended, even the weakest spot, leaving only a direct assault which will provoke massive Zerg losses the only option, I have this challenge to you, intrepid would-be strategists and StarCraft players. Perhaps one or two actual military strategists reading too. I have my own plans for the direct assault scenario, you'll only see them on the very chapter (Three left to get it done with the Char arc, preparation, assault and aftermath, thank God), but I want you to cook your brains on this one. Consider a game, actually: How would you break Harkonnen? Remember, consider the artillery, the anti-infiltration techniques, the Xel'Naga artifact... Let's see some insane, stupid and similar ideas on the reviews.

Also, off the record, it's somehow complicated just to get along a decent course of Lasarra's training, given now there are so few chapters before heading to Kaldir and engaging the Protoss, but here's a sort of a beginning. Of a sort.

Until next chapter, then. Comment, critic, review, and try to answer the riddle. How would you break Harkonnen. Answers along, please, don't be afraid for the public to read them too!


	21. Chapter XIX - Writing History

**HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE**

**CHAPTER XIX - WRITING HISTORY**

* * *

**WAR CHAMBER, DAELAAM ARK**  
**CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

It had been minutes since she'd been running around and around the War Chamber, time and again, but now she was feeling the burden heaving greatly on her. She could feel the pain and, equally, the anger coming up on her as she struggled to run more laps with those infernal balls now hurting her wrists and, thus, her arms and her back. Though it was no race, she made an effort to make every lap worth it. Her body clearly became to be tired with both running and carrying the balls.

The fool Biblos believed she'd give up, especially after that ordeal she put her through and the martial fight he put on her, though she was instructed. Still, Lasarra would not be so _easily_ bent. She couldn't, under the most extreme of pains in those chambers, and she wouldn't now. Her anger only increased her will to pass through this. She would not be made a fool or a weakling out of again. She would pass through that trial to prove her point and earn her place, as she would pass through any other said 'trials' Biblos would make up for her. Naviri said he was one that many would hate the most, but would be more than willing to follow into Hell, if needs be. Lasarra, as of that moment, felt that if should she be able to hit one or two times on her instructor, she would rest well past the training. She would absorb what she would learn and not deliver one ounce of satisfaction to the Praetor whom made her life a Hell on those chambers. Still, the tire and pain were increasing by the moment as she ran across the chamber, her three hearts beating in frantic acceleration as her almost whole body ached desperately for a rest. Her wrists suffered the most, the pain reaching to the very bones, where she felt they could break at any time.

Suddenly, she felt herself trip with the wrong step as she fell to the ground, the hurt of bumping with the cold metal floor adding to the body. She lightly gasped in the pain as she felt herself fall down to the weight of the ordeal that gripped her now, despite the fact she attempted to struggle through the pain and tire. A great deal of effort was required for her to get on her feet, focusing on her anger to keep her going. Yet it was a bit difficult when the same pain kept you _distracted_ instead of keeping focused. She resumed her running, knowing that her body simply couldn't take anymore much.

All the meanwhile, the Zer'atai N'arkham had been watching her fighting through her tire and hurt, all still and standing before the crate that held a small, disc like computer. Different from Terran machinery, however, that computer often required a more psionic interaction than a physical one. That computer displayed a hologram screen of the ball shackles that Lasarra painfully hoarded as she continued to tire around another lap in the War Chamber, displaying the integrity of the balls themselves and informations concerning energy feed and the level set. The Nerazim contemplated her running around, displaying either a sign of endurance that only appeared in a few Protoss, or that she had a considerable ounce of non-sense. Perhaps _both_, as very little would force their continuing after a few running turns with those balls. Those whom did would not last too long, but she was persisting.

Perhaps persisting _too far._

Her wrists now hurt more than ever, as Lasarra kept on running, even her insides hurting all at once as she continued to run. Her body parts began to respond erractically, nerves starting to tense up and convulse to try and stop her body before a rupture would erupt. She started to yelp in pain, continuously, yet struggling to stifle what otherwise would be a sign of hurt and tire. Something that N'arkham or Biblos, if the Praetor were present, would relish upon.

That was when N'arkham decided enough is enough.

Suddenly, as she attempted to run, Lasarra noticed the grip of the balls, out of a sudden, had vanished, allowing her to run a tad bit more easily, but only for a few seconds as she continued to run. Then, she ceased running for a moment, noticing the weight was too light again, from when she was first put those shackles.

"_What?_", Lasarra mumbled, dumbfounded.

"That is enough, Initiate.", a voice said, behind her. She stopped and turned to see N'arkham was walking forward, directly to her. "You may rest for a few moments."

"What?", Lasarra asked, her body aching in pain. "No, dark one, the Praetor would never..."

"Biblos is not here, Lasarra.", N'arkham retorted. "And that is an order. My order. Stand down and rest, now."

"I can still continue.", Lasarra said, not willing to give in.

"You clearly cannot!", N'arkham exclaimed, firmly. "I could sense your body convulsing, aching and desperately needing rest. You have stretched the limit, Initiate, let your corpse rest, it has earned it."

"Not enough for me.", Lasarra said, turning and beginning to run again.

"_I ordered you to stop, Initiate!_", N'arkham roared.

"_I will stop when I am finished!_", Lasarra exclaimed back.

Cursing himself for what he'd have to do, N'arkham grabbed the staff where he wielded his scythe-like Warp Blades and threw it at Lasarra's legs, whom were still racing. The staff flew and spun rapidly, strength and energy building up until it hit it's target, enough to both make it hurt and make Lasarra yelp as she tripped and fell to the ground. The Zer'atai started to walk forward, with a bit of hurry, hoping to catch Lasarra before she could get on her feet.

"_Stop means stand still, Initiate!_", N'arkham said, angry.

"I am aware of the meaning of this word, dark one, thank you!", Lasarra retorted, angry, as she tried to pick herself up. N'arkham picked his staff and wasted no time activating it. Lasarra stopped when she heard the flashing sound, turning her head to see the Zer'atai had his Warp Blades on.

"Have you ever experienced being cut by a Warp Blade, Initiate?", N'arkham said, coldly. "I assure you, youngling, this injures and wounds even more than your hallowed Psi-Blades, almost _twice_ as they do. If you want to have your first experience, defy me by getting on your feet. Otherwise, stand down and _rest!_"

"And simply deliver you what you want, to be satisfied?", Lasarra asked, defiantly. "So much you as the Praetor had not gone lightly on myself in the chambers. When I would be resting, I would presume you would then make me run again, with the weight on my wrists, all to infuriate me. So why I cannot infuriate you, in the same way?"

"Believe me, Lasarra...", N'arkham said, coldly and menacing. "You_ never_ had seen me infuriated. And you may regret yourself, should you _make me_ be..."

Lasarra and the Nerazim only deadlocked stares with one another for some time, both not so willing to give in. When N'arkham tightened his grip on his active Warp Blade, however, Lasarra resigned, though in disgust as well, as she collapsed to the ground, her body more aching than never. The Zer'atai deactivated his Warp Blades then.

"Do you know what separates a warrior from a savage or a beast, Initiate?", N'arkham asked. "'Tis not garments, fighting practice nor how shiny is the armor, youngling. It is restraint. It is knowing when to _stop_."

"Ironic, given the Executor taught me that no matter if my whole body hurt, I should never stop.", Lasarra said, sarcastically.

"In a combat situation, Initiate, and that is one you are_ highly unlikely_ to experience today, or tomorrow, or the next sunturn!", N'arkham retorted, firmly. "Your body is not like a machine that you can abuse and mistreat until it breaks down. It cannot be repaired, nor replaced, should it truly break. If one piece of you breaks beyond recover or is lost, it cannot be restored."

Lasarra cursed herself quietly as she attempted to pick herself up to sit upon and rest her back on the close column where she fell close to.

"Do you believe that you will become stronger and endure longer runs in only one night, Initiate?", N'arkham said. "_You are gravely mistaken._ And, allow me to early you an advice, you will not gain _anything_ by exceeding yourself. Not even praise."

"Is it not through exceeding that the finest of the Akilae were formed at the Aeon of Strife, Prelate?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"Even the great warriors of such barbaric times_ knew_ when to stop practicing, to allow their bodies rest.", N'arkham replied. "Greater strength, greater endurance, these are things you develop over time, Initiate, at each passing moonrise."

"Mayhaps I may have not this much time, dark one.", Lasarra said, bitterly. "You have seen the fight the Praetor had put up with Disciple Ketal, you have heard the demanded the same level for the next time we fight one another!"

"You are no Oracle of the Nerazim, Initiate, so you do not know when this fight will occur!", N'arkham stood firm.

"So you suggest I get to _consult_ one every day!?", Lasarra asked, ironically.

"No.", N'arkham said, coldly. "What I am suggesting is that you do not force your strength and limits. This is only your first day, Lasarra. Many more will come, and your increase of strength, fighting skills and abilities will come with them."

"_How easy 'tis to speak rather than doing..._", Lasarra said, bitterly.

"_It is the truth, Initiate._", N'arkham said. "And, if may I suggest, you should calm your anger."

"I could, should I manage to repay you all you have done on my initiation.", Lasarra said, closing her eyes. "But I also could go lightly, in retribution for you aiding me to the Recovery Chamber."

"This would only gratify the basic, primal urges, Khalai.", N'arkham said. "This is another thing that makes a warrior different from a beast or savage. Both primal creatures unleash all their anger, fury and rage at once. They do not refine it, do not control it, do not channel it. Warriors train to learn how to channel such anger."

Lasarra simply rested as she listened to the sermons of the supposed instructor before her. N'arkham could easily notice she was not listening or even pretending she was not.

"Are you with so much anger of myself and Biblos, Initiate?", N'arkham asked. "Enough to not even_ listen_ to what we have to say?"

"If you declare so, Prelate...", Lasarra said, tired.

"I hardly believe it.", N'arkham said. "I, for one instance, believe you are angry, though not of myself or the Praetor."

"Are you reading my mind, dark one?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"I do not have to.", N'arkham said. "I can recognize one angry at her weakness, the very moment I see her. I have seen it before."

"Forgive my insolence, Prelate, but I do not think you know what anger lies within me.", Lasarra said, coldly.

"I believe I do.", N'arkham said. "You are angry of your fragile state, that you cannot do anything. You are angry at your incapacity to react, to make a stand. You are angry you feel too small before the greatness of other people. You are angry that, when you are mentioned, nothing but ill or raucous is told of you, even as you try to struggle against fate itself, even though it is a terrible one. Like the quicksand of desert worlds, the more you try to struggle out of that position, the deeper and faster you succumb. The anger ultimately turns to despair, despair turns to insanity, and insanity turns to resignation."

Lasarra opened her eyes, contemplative. She seemed to have those exact feelings, something that the Nerazim could not simply know. Unless there was something else.

"Were you one like myself, N'arkham?", Lasarra asked, looking at the Zer'atai standing tall before her.

"Before he became one worthy of wielding the blades of the Zer'atai, N'arkham was naught but a scribe, yet one with a dream and an aspiration.", N'arkham said. "He accomplished it, though at a greater cost."

"And what was it?", Lasarra asked.

"That is... _painful_, in itself, to remember.", N'arkham said, looking down, to the ground. "Still, in yourself, now I can see the strength you have within. You truly are committed to this, are you not?"

"I am.", Lasarra replied. "I always have been. And, even so, I was never given an opportunity until now. To prove myself."

"You _are_ already proving yourself, Initiate.", N'arkham said. "Perhaps you are the one who truly belongs as a warrior, even more than Selendis herself."

"I doubt much so.", Lasarra said. "My sister has had practice and expertise over the eons. What do I have?"

"Your will, Lasarra.", N'arkham said. "And this compensates for any training she may have had."

"Is this supposed to comfort me, Prelate?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"You may have the best of training, instructed by the highest known in Protoss civilization as well as the most deadly art your Khala allows to reach.", N'arkham answered. "One thing that is certain in this universe is that ultimately none is worth without the will to prepare. The will to learn. The will to stand. The will to act."

Lasarra only stared at the Nerazim for a moment. "_Quite inspirational._", she said, lightly amused.

"'Tis the truth, Lasarra.", N'arkham answered. "'Tis all it is. Your will to get through this and become something different is strong. I am certain you will pass."

"You believe so, N'arkham?", Lasarra asked.

"I simply know.", N'arkham said. "Now, if you would kindly get on your feet and continue..."

"My body still hurts.", Lasarra said, coldly, as she got on her feet.

"So were of many Initiates in this place.", N'arkham said, dismissively, as he turned to head back to the crate, doubtless to prepare the balls again. "And, Initiate, when I tell you to stop, _will you_, this time?"

"It does not seem I have a choice.", Lasarra said.

"You do have, youngling.", the Nerazim replied. "Though the other option you may not _like_."

"As always.", Lasarra said, turning around as she started to run again, preparing herself for the weight that would come once again. And it indeed came, as the Initiate continued to run across the War Chamber. As she would until the time for the obstacle track would come up.

* * *

**COMMAND ROOM, DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _HARKONNEN_**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Time was no longer relevant. It didn't even seemed to care for General Horace Warfield, anymore. Not after that sight caught his very eyes, and those eyes recorded that sight, as well as the memory tried to accept it. Tried to accept that the last thing he imagined had indeed become true.

_She was back._ And the frozen frame of the video feed recovered by Sneaker was there to prove it.

Warfield didn't want to believe it. He wanted to believe it was someone else, perhaps the female half-Zerg standing next to the figure of the Queen of Blades, whom was truly holding the cards. But the same pose, the same look, the same tendril hair, even though it was stuck to an attempt at a ponytail... _It all said otherwise._ And, without a shroud a doubt, there was no need for an explanation. Mengsk's broadcast to every world across the Sector was enough of a motive, if that was true. Though Mengsk too couldn't just be that stupid to eliminate Jim Raynor and make him a martyr. But to see Sarah Kerrigan, a Queen of monsters now fallen, right at the mouth of the monster, in the most ironic representation of the tales of Jonah or Pinocchio, it all made sense on what she was doing, and what she wanted.

She wanted Mengsk dead. Warfield, at least, could live with that. But she'd also want his Dominion burned to the ground, thousands of victims in the name of revenge against one person alone. Something that Warfield would not accept.

"Thousands of lives lost...", Warfield muttered, shocked. "Dozens of ships destroyed... Half the Sector potentially defenseless and the Emperor hammering down on us for our disobedience... Forced to put my trust in a said 'terrorist' and his group, as well as an alien trinket... And now, here we are, finding out all that was all for _nothing_."

"But how she reunited with them here is what's troubling me, General.", McGrudd, who was at Warfield's left, commented. "Do you think she _turned_ on them? Otherwise she'd never reunite with the monsters!"

"I'm starting to think she put the Raiders out of her way.", Warfield said. "No doubt she wants Mengsk's head and anyone whom gets in the path..."

"Which we are, unfortunately, and we can't move.", McGrudd readily said, in regret.

"And she doesn't want Raynor's boys trying to stop her.", Warfield concluded.

"Horace...", McGrudd called, worried. "You're not thinking what I'm thinking, right? _You think she killed him?_"

"That's what I'm afraid of.", Warfield answered. "This proves the artifact only removed the make-up. This proves Kerrigan's really dead, like Raynor feared. And that the poor bastard paid the price first hand..."

"And now that she's back, we're on the hit list.", McGrudd said. "And right at worst hour, with those two moons fekking up our comms..."

"But we can transmit it to the _Marathon_ and that bastard Maddox.", Warfield said. "Send that video to him, that may change his mind about moving the artifact out. We need it now more than ever for when she arrives."

"I don't think he'll want to believe it.", McGrudd said.

"_He has to, Duncan!_", Warfield exclaimed. "That idiot can't just be that stupid or ignorant, he's got to believe it! Send it to him."

"Should I take the opportunity too to check on our defenses, General?", McGrudd asked.

"I'm doing that personally.", Warfield said. "I'll be sure to be ready for when she comes. Get everyone warned and prepared for anything. Yellow alert at all times. Hopefully, she won't have too many Zerg to unleash at the fortress while we hold, at least until we can call for help..."

"While we hold, General?", McGrudd asked, worried. "_For two days!?_ Last time we fought her she was powerful and mighty and capable of tearing a _Battlecruiser_ with a minimum of effort. If she still has that kind of power, making it through a day _alone_ is going to be an achievement!"

"Agreed.", Warfield said. "Though I'd call that a _miracle_, Duncan. Get to work. I'll start mine."

Warfield turned around to leave the Command Room. McGrudd simply stood there, looking at the video feed frame for a moment before walking forward to the workstations.

"Prepare an encoding, pronto!", McGrudd ordered. "Go to yellow alert! All stations loaded and checking!"

A fast loud klaxon erupted across the Command Room as yellow warning lights now flashed high.

* * *

**HIERARCHY ASSEMBLY, TALEMATROS, SHAKURAS**

Hurried steps echoed through the halls of the Hierarchy Assembly, those belonging to one hurried Hierarch whom now walked for an emergency summon, one made by Admiral Urun of the Auriga. Commotion was quite normal, except for Artanis, whom headed as of that moment to attend that summon. Something that could only happen if something occurred, within or outside of Shakuras. And it was rarely a good sign, in such difficult times. Fortunately, only three persons necessary were summoned. Artanis, Urun and Selendis. Artanis found it strange, as Urun could easily spread a grim news and provoke an intentional political backlash on the Hierarch's government. On such a savage area of Protoss society that was politics itself, despite all courtesies and moods, each and every tribal leader, like in the Aeon of Strife, were aiming to come atop one another's throats. Artanis, despite his superior position, was nothing more than a _mediator_ between five of the eight tribes that formed the Protoss society. The ninth was that of the Nerazim, an earned representation given their deeds during the fall of Aiur and the fact the Khalai housed in Shakuras itself. The Venatir, Velari and Sargas tribes had no participation in the Hierarchy, meaning they would have to depend on one of the representing tribes to bring their point or fulfil a request that could take a long time to do so, due to the lethargy the numerous, unrelenting discussions brought upon the Assembly itself.

Arriving at his personal quarters, where two of his most loyal Zealot guards stood by the very portal, he stepped in to meet the High Executor herself as well as the Protoss Admiral, whom stood close to the supposed desk where worked the daily bureaucracy. Like the remainder of the structure itself, the large room was golden clad in walls, ceiling and floor, though there was a glass decoration below with luminescent blue. The Hierarch's personal quarters were egg-shaped in itself, with viewing windows to the right that allowed a gaze of the Nerazim capital outside. Close by, opposing the portal, stood a massive decoration meant to represent and impress the nature of Artanis' supposed position, with several arcs surrounding a pair of blue orbs. In the middle, a large Protoss head with a High Templar headwear stared down with a serene, yet serious look. Below that wall decoration was the Hierarch's desk, and behind it lied two triangular bases in which two small crystals, that glowed high, hovered a few meters above. By that desk stood three half-open orbs with couches within, though they had no support for which those supposed chairs hovered. Close to the portal, on one corner, lied a transmitter that allowed him to open contact when in the quarters, and on the other lied a small hovering slab that allowed the Hierarch to lay down and fall asleep. Despite the fact that there were those whom wanted to make a well-crafted, unique bed for the Hierarch to fall asleep, Artanis immediately refused it, not wanting to forsake his warrior origins. Above the access portal arcs stood the banner of his tribe, the Akilae, that, when seen by a certain angle, curiously reminded the design of a head and wing of an eagle, a symbol many times used by the Roman Empire on Earth, Nazi Germany, the United States, the United Earth Directorate and other governments for it's representation of a bright, yet firm force.

"What is it, Urun?", Artanis asked, as he approached the couple that stood high and tall before him. "Why have you made this summon?"

Urun simply handled Artanis a small scroll, a papyrus of a sory that the Hierarch picked and unfolded it, containing a file written in Khalani, the sacred Protoss language.

"Our outpost in the planet Haven was attacked and destroyed.", Urun answered, coldly. "Almost a dozen brethren lost. Those whom survived have affirmed it was the doing of James Raynor's cohorts."

Artanis listened as, for a moment, he read the scroll and then enrolled it, facing Urun. The Hierarch simply remained silent, with a sad face.

"Will you not say anything, Hierarch?", Urun asked, stressed.

"Would you listen, Admiral?", Artanis asked. "You did not when I first warned you that establishing that outpost was unnecessary."

"_And I answered it was necessary, Artanis!_", Urun exclaimed, angry. "Infestation is something our people should have taken too seriously, but when the Conclave acted, it was too late! And on a world so close to our very space, this could not be ignored!"

"When James Raynor was very much alive, Admiral, he assured us there was no danger with the Terran refugees.", Artanis insisted, firmly. "His word was one you could trust, but instead you preferred to _ignore_ it."

"According to Selendis' report, it led us to believe he was manipulated by the colonist leader.", Urun said. "A female Terran, very much like the Queen of Blades was, though this one shared no infestation, but had an equal power of persuasion, like the Queen of Blades and every other Terran."

"Not _every_ other Terran, Urun.", Selendis said. "Rosemary Dahl shared none of these traits."

"She was an _exception_, Selendis.", Urun said. "Every general aspect of a society has an exception. You have not studied the Terran societies as close as I did, Executor."

"_This is a narrow and prejudicial view, Urun!_", Artanis exclaimed, angry.

"It is the denoting of facts, Hierarch, based on actual observations.", Urun said. "Terrans, apparently, have a capacity for manipulating. And now such manipulating has turned our allies against us."

"How can it be, if we acted first by settling that outpost?", Artanis asked.

"Most of the Hierarchy had approved that action, as I recall.", Urun said. "I remember being immediately censored by _someone_ after suggesting a full attack on that world after the loss of the Purifier!"

"I have asked moderation and prudence that day, Admiral.", Artanis said. "Despite his deeds against our armada and the Tal'Darim, James Raynor continued to be our ally, at the time."

"You seemed willing to _forgive_ him after that transgression, on that day!", Urun said, furious. "The survival of our people cannot depend upon the decisions and acts of one who is not even one of our own!"

"But it also cannot depend on rash, exaggerated actions that waste time and resources!", Artanis retorted, angry. "There are greater dangers outside, Admiral, greater than any group of Terran refugees, infested or not!"

"Dangers that, may I add, we _already_ should have been dealing with, especially in a promising time like this!", Urun said. "Since the fall of the Queen of Blades, the time we wasted debating could have been used to deal a strike of vengeance against the Swarm! We could have eliminated most of the Zerg minions across their space and even close to the Terran primary worlds, or even be nearly completed on the reclamation of Aiur!"

"This decision was already made _twice_, Admiral!", Artanis exclaimed, furious. "This is not a meeting between all tribes and I will not bring this to debate for a third time!"

"_But I am debating it!_", Urun roared, livid.

"My Hierarch, Admiral, please, behave yourselves!", Selendis interefered, begging. "Debating by shouting and roaring on one another will produce little to no effect, I am afraid."

"Very unfortunate, I am afraid, Selendis, because 'tis only by doing such that I can get the Hierarch's attention, as of late.", Urun said, all bitter. Artanis simply stared at the Admiral, attempting to contain his anger.

"My Hierarch.", Selendis called. "Despite the fact that all whom once stood with James Raynor are equally our friends, a need for a response is necessary."

"What kind of response, this time, Executor?", Artanis asked, coldly.

"A moderate one, Hierarch.", Selendis readily said, glaring at Urun before he could say something. "Not entirely or considerably in force, but enough to intimidate the Terrans."

"The Terrans would be _hardly_ intimidated by a simpleton display of force, Executor.", Urun said. "The Purifier, that was supposed to intimidate those Terrans at surrendering their crusade for those colonists, is now nothing but a _ruin_ of it's former self. The only display of force we can do now is launch an attack!"

"An attack against a defenseless population is against our very principles, Urun!", Artanis exclaimed.

"These said colonists do not appear to be _so defenseless_, to having managed to destroy one of our settlements.", Urun snapped back. "They seem capable and willing to stand against our might. Let us not disappoint them, then."

"The other tribes would not agree with such insanity.", Artanis said.

"Perhaps they would, Hierarch.", Urun said. "And they would applaud your initiative, should you take it."

"_Out of question, Urun!_", Artanis shouted, firmly. "We have not come out of the barbaric days of the Aeon of Strife to degrade ourselves back in supposedly justified massacres! This sort of intervention was what resulted in the Kalath Intercession, in case you do not remember!"

Urun had answered nothing back, seeing that Artanis was not so easily headstrong and stubborn as others would have suggested, having studied the history of his race. The Kalath Intercession, namely, was one of the several shames that stained the supposed image of Protoss nobility, along with their rebellion against their Xel'Naga creators, eons preceding the creation of the Zerg. It involved a civil war of the namesake species that would potentially reduce such a sentient, sapient species, into a state of tribalism much akin to the Protoss' own civil war themselves. Fearing such devolution, Juras, a Protoss scientist assigned to the research observatory built on their homeworld, advised the local Executor to cease the fighting through intimidation with superior technology. This backlashed, however, as the Kalathi turned against the newfound 'invaders' and a general war broke out. It was then that the Executor deployed the feared and towering Colossi, whose Thermal Beam Lances had provoked a massacre incalculable, enough to shock the rest of the Protoss race.

In the aftermath, ashamed with their rash intervention, the Conclave permanently sealed the Colossi and tightened their restrictions, forbidding the Protoss to ever again interfere directly in the internal affairs of lesser races. The exception, obviously, came with the arrival of the Zerg, when the Conclave saw first hand the Zerg colonizing and infesting occupied worlds, consuming their inhabitants and twisting their resources without any pity or mercy. Realizing the Zerg was a menace that could not be understood, reasoned with or controlled, the Conclave dispatched Tassadar, an Executor at the time, to cleanse the infestation through fire, purifying the infested Terran worlds.

"Yes, I do remember, Hierarch.", Urun said, coldly. "But, should we not intervene, our integrity will be questioned far more further than it already is! Otherwise, what do you suggest, in your vast knowledge of the matter, that we do?"

"I would trust what James Raynor once declared.", Artanis said, firmly. "That these colonists are safe and their cure against the infestation is effective."

"You may be willing to trust the words of a Terran simpleton, Artanis, but I stand by the power and certainty of our people.", Urun said, bitter. And my certainty is that the idea of a cure capable of eliminating Zerg infestation is as impossible as it is _absurd!_ He should have realized such in the first place!"

"Yet, he _believed_ it, Admiral.", Selendis said. "His belief was strong enough for him to stand against us. What other explanation could there be?"

"The more obvious one, Executor, and the one I stand for.", Urun said. "James Raynor fell for the duplicity of another female, mayhaps with the best of intentions, but without any reasonable notions of the abomination, that infestation is, she fights against."

Artanis and Urun simply looked at one another for quite some time.

"I will take this matter to the Hierarchy first, before taking any action.", Artanis said, coldly. "I will not have any vessel depart to that world, armed or not, before everything is certain and all is covered. If you do not accept, consider this matter closed, then."

"Take this matter to the Hierarchy, if you desire it.", Urun teased, with a light tone of mockery. "In the end, only thou shall be injured by this."

"I sincerely doubt it.", Artanis said.

"Do not tempt fate, Hierarch.", Urun said, coldly. "You may be a warrior and used to pain and sorrow, but this sort of pain and sorrow, of the political, is nothing you know of. Now, if you will allow me, I must depart and check our progress with the Furinax concerning our new weapon."

"You can go...", Artanis said, cold and fed up, as the Aurigan stepped besides him and crossed the portal arcs of the Hierarch's quarters, all tall and proud. Only Selendis and Artanis remained in the office. The Hierarch then stared at the High Executor.

"Do you have something to tell me, Executor?", Artanis asked, heading to the chair before his desk.

"My Hierarch, I venerate you even after what occurred at the end of the Brood War, but Urun attempts to do what is best for our people.", Selendis answered.

"_I hardly believe it, Selendis._", Artanis said, resigning, having a seat and then gesturing for Selendis to have a seat as well. "It seems he does so only to raise his prestige within the Hierarchy, like the old politicians of the Conclave, in the past. How did mighty Tassadar managed to _withstand_ them, 'tis a riddle not even the great Khas would be able to answer..."

"Not _every_ political move concerns personal gain, Artanis.", Selendis reassured. "Urun, like his tribe, is passionate with their duty, and this passion only inflamed further with the fall of Kerrigan."

"His said 'passion' could cost the lives of many, Selendis.", Artanis said. "Our people are already on the nigh-brink of extinction. And other Protoss we encounter are acting on their own accord or aligned with the Tal'Darim. And an attempt he makes to reclaim Aiur or directly engage the Swarm, besides, may cost our entire armada. We would be left defenseless as the vultures of Zerg and Terran-kind would come to rummage upon our corpses."

"Urun is well much aware of the risk as every soul walking the halls of the Assembly.", Selendis said. "But even so, my Hierarch, our very government and unity is compromised. The people on the very avenues and alleys of Talematros urge for action, especially now, when times are promising, as he stated. The tribal leaders yearn for the chance to reclaim the lost pride and honor. Our warriors thirst for the opportunity to be taken. Sure you do understand it, do you not?"

"Perhaps.", Artanis said, raising his head. "Perhaps, Selendis. But... If you please... I would like a moment, with none but myself."

"Very well.", Selendis complied, raising from her floating orb-chair. "Should you require something, I shall be available._ En Taro Tassadar._"

"_En Taro Adun._", spoke Artanis, as the Executor turned around to leave the Hierarch's quarters, stepping through the portal arcs and leaving Artanis almost alone with his thoughts, doubts and dilemmas.

Almost.

"Well, I'll give him this, he's got some real thick skin, for your usual politician.", another voice, one that didn't belong to Artanis, echoed across the egg-shaped chamber. "_And I thought that was an unique Terran trait..._"

Artanis did not have to look anywhere, continuing focusing down on the desk, to realize to whom belonged that voice. It was one he had to get used to since that person entered his life not two years ago, when a Protoss strike force had learned of one of the Terran's most abominable projects and it's product, and they had destroyed it, though the product, apparently a 'slave now freed', as he said it, had done most of the job. Since then, with nowhere to go, he had come to Shakuras, though his reception wasn't that much positive. With such an abomination at sight like a Terran-Protoss hybrid, it rarely was.

A flashing light of blue erupted and lightened more the chamber than it already has as an energy curtain appeared, faded and gradually displayed the very said 'person' that usually remained in that chamber, a monster at a very first sight. This could be very well first seen on his humanoid appearance, clearly Terran, wearing a gray environment suit, with combat boots and gloves and shoulder pads, though other appearances remained irrevocably Protoss, like the chest armor, with a crystal by the chest, as well as wrist pieces where Psi-Blades could be activated.

The more disturbing, however, was his face, the pure denomination of a nightmarish monster, as it had twisted both of it's traits and mixed them together, as any hybrid would. It shared the psionic appendages, gray skin and glowing eyes of the Protoss, but the remainder was clearly Terran, with two ears, a nose and, more disturbing, a mouth with teeth clearly yellowed by the lack of brushing material, as well as a dark blue, almost black tongue and interiors. And that face was now staring at the Hierarch with snide eyes as he lied on a wall, resting his back and crossing his arms.

He was a monster. He was the monster, one not born, but designed by the Terran Dominion in an effort to maximize Ghost potential, pretty much like Shadowblade intended, but through genetic practices that many would consider amoral and illegal, combining Terran and Protoss DNA from captured warriors. A Gestalt. The first Gestalt. Gestalt Zero.

"I believed you would be hardly surprised, monstrous one.", Artanis said, in resignation, as he removed his helmet and rested it on the desk. "Being a Terran yourself, you have had seen politicians before you slaughtered them. They seem to backstab and undermine more than most of the Terrans."

The Gestalt snickered in irony.

"I've not seen every last one of them, but I've got my share, true.", Zero answered, getting off the wall as he started crossing the chamber to the viewing windows outside. "This Urun folk, however, seems quite to be_ too much_ for the usual snake type..."

"You believe so?", Artanis asked, coldly. "Now you have become a judge of character?"

"Oh, trust me, Artie, I've got reasons to think this one would backstab you, if he only could.", Zero replied.

"_My name is Artanis!_ And Urun would never do that, hybrid!", Artanis said, upset. "You know nothing of him!"

"Keep holding that thought, boy, you won't be sitting in that floating chair for long...", Zero said, with disdain. "Real comfortable, that thing, by the way."

"Firstly, hybrid, I am not a 'boy', if you are implying the Terran concept of infancy.", Artanis said, bitter and stressed. "Secondly, Urun may be attempting to undermine my efforts due to my staying of hand, but he is loyal enough to the Hierarchy to simply turn arms on myself and my people, if that is what you presume! And, thirdly, maintain your impure, abominable form _away_ from these seatings, for your sake!"

"Well...", Zero said, frowning, staring at the Protoss. "Firstly, Artanis, you _are_ a boy, and I'm implying the Protoss concept of infancy on this. You're almost three hundred years old, and most of these folks but that chick you meet are sure to have gone after the five hundred. Secondly, I think Urun's _yet_ to show his trump card. It's three times you deny him what he wants, and he knows you're on the way of his personal ambitions. I'm warning you, Artie, you_ should've_ let me handle him. It'd be clean and quick-"

"_They would notice your hand in this, hybrid!_", Artanis censored. "As they would notice that_ I_ have had something to do with that!"

"You could say it's my fault, because I went mad, devolved back to a destructive state or something, I'm sure one or two would _sympathize_.", Zero said, like if he didn't give a damn. "_'Blame the monster'_, isn't that what they say of Kerrigan? Why shouldn't it be any _different_ with me?"

Artanis closed his eyes in frustration for a moment.

"Honestly, hybrid, I liked you when you were more destructive and less sarcastic...", Artanis said, holding his 'breath', resting his right hand on his forehead, covering almost both his eyes.

"I can get back to being that, if you want.", Zero said, coldly. "Besides, if you're so worried about the body, I assure you, I've came to know a few places where I can safely dump the Urun folk..."

"What?", Artanis asked, shocked, staring at the Gestalt and getting on his feet. "_You have left this structure!?_"

"Even one like myself likes to stretch his legs, once in a while...", Zero said, with a bit of irony.

"_I told you not to do so!_", Artanis exclaimed. "When I first intervened, I delivered my people my word you would no longer be seen on the city's streets!"

"I went _cloaked_, mommy, if that's what you're concerned...", Zero said, annoyed.

"_I am not your mother, monster!_", Artanis roared. "But I can very well deliver you a spanking, should you _tempt_ me!"

"_I'm sure you would..._", Zero replied.

"You should be thanking my benevolence, half one.", Artanis said. "I could have been like the remainder and allowed the Daelaam to destroy you, especially after they discovered what occurred to Muadun! Instead, I intervened for you, believing you could be _redeemed_."

"And I thank you for that.", Zero said, staring at the Hierarch.

"Then you should be helping me keep my word and remain here, not only to fulfill my word, but also for your own safety.", Artanis said.

"I'm not a helpless blond lady in a pink dress, either.", Zero retorted. "I can very well defend myself."

"That is what many outside the safety of the Assembly are hoping for, so they can then destroy you.", Artanis said. "There are many outside whom have trained and fought with Muadun, many whom would want your head in retribution for his death. Khastiana, the most of all, as she was the more _vocal_ on the matter."

Zero simply frowned, yet he could understand a little bit of the pain the Ash'Arak female Zealot-turned-Immortal apprentice was feeling. It was never easy to stand the sight of one whom simply murdered her mentor and was still awake and breathing, freely roaming the outside world.

"Still, not even the most patient Protoss could bear to stand in a cage, you know that.", Zero said. "Even if it's a _comfortable_ cage, like this one."

"Try and hold, hybrid, 'tis all I am asking.", Artanis said.

"Well, if you don't want a corpse, then at least let me find something dirty on him.", Zero said. "It never hurts to have a little _leverage_, especially against the likes of him..."

"The last thing I shall do, hybrid, is compromise and stain my honor, if that is what you expect of me!", Artanis stated firmly. The phrase, however, was enough for the Gestalt to crackle and laugh out loud. Artanis simply tightened his eyes in disgust.

"Honor!? _Are you serious!?_", Zero asked jokingly, laughing a bit more before he calmed down. "_And they say you Protoss have no sense of humor..._"

"_I mean that!_", Artanis exclaimed, offended by the laughter.

"For crying out loud, boy!", Zero said, disdainfully. "You really expect to be honorable and hope the others, especially that Urun, won't go up your back!? Politics, as I learned, is a brothel, and you're quite the _virgin_ on this matter."

"_I told you, hybrid, I am not a boy!_", Artanis exclaimed, furious.

"_You are and will continue to be until you grow up a pair!_", the Gestalt then said, suddenly fed up. "A little dirt never hurt anyone! You can go the other option, if you want, step out and let Urun take charge and do whatever he wants with his crap-filled head, but if you don't want to, you better step up the game and get a little more compromising."

"Get out of my sight.", Artanis ordered. "_Now!_"

Zero simply stared at him with disappointment and pity.

"You just won't change, will you?", Zero asked. "Don't complain later if you fall to a coup, or something. Not even the UED were _that_ arrogant..."

With this said, before Artanis raised his head to yell at him, the energy curtain ran over the Gestalt's body as he disappeared from normal sight again.

The Hierarch then lowered in head in frustration and anger. That was when he, a few moments later, to vent such anger, he slammed both hands on the desk.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK PEAKS, CHAR**  
**ONE HOUR LATER...**

It was practically hard for her to stand there and rest now, much less close her eyes or even try to fall asleep. It wasn't, as it normally would, either the cold touch of the side seats in the cargo hold, whom had no couch to rest upon, or the tight spot that didn't allow her to move much and find a comfortable position to rest. Sarah Kerrigan was simply restless. She simply couldn't rest, as her body was un-needing of rest and her mind was too busy, boiling itself as she tried to think something concerning the _Harkonnen_ stronghold the Zerg would assault very soon.

Still, it wasn't easy, given how Warfield and his men locked in themselves pretty tight, against any chances of infiltration or suprise attacks whatsoever. Practically there wasn't a single option, at all, a weakness, that could be exploited to facilitate the fight and, hopefully, reach the Xel'Naga artifact before it could be fired. That, besides all the artillery and firepower Warfield had, including nuclear ordinance, made it all the more impossible to break the fortress and drive the Terrans from Char. For, as long as the Terrans had their confidence in firepower, they'd continue to put up a fight until they were dead, and that was something Kerrigan didn't personally want. She just wanted to provoke enough damage for Warfield to retreat and deliver a message for his Emperor. That, at least, was her personal plan.

"My Queen? My Queen, are you awake?", Kerrigan heard a flanged voice too familiar as she got up, sitting on the seat and noticing the Brood Mother Za'gara right outside the cargo hold of the wrecked Umojan Dropship, staring deep within though not wanting to touch the cold metal floor of the vessel.

"Shouldn't you be working, Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, looking down and rubbing the back of her neck, not in the mood for conversation. "Picking up stray Zerg for the assault?"

"I have gathered a considerable number of minions, my Queen, yes.", Za'gara answered, nodding. "But this is not what I wanted to talk with you."

"What is it, then?", Kerrigan asked.

"As with you, I am certain, my Queen, I have been placing efforts in thinking a strategy concerning General Warfield's stronghold.", Za'gara started.

"_You've been thinking?_", Kerrigan said, ironically, letting out a small snicker. "That's scary, given you'd just strike head-on, like you said in the caves..."

"Actually, my Queen, that conversation have had it's share of productivity.", Za'gara said, humbly. "It has caused an effect unknown to me, by then. Out of my own initiative and thirst, I had started to consider new strategy to employ in combat, alternatives to direct assault. Such was increased when you told me how you had defeated me in the test of will."

"_That's absurd, Za'gara._", Kerrigan said. "You can't just have learned_ too much_ in just a small talk like that. Besides, whatever strategy you made up probably would not work on that place. These are things you learn with time, not all at an instant..."

"I have belief that this strategy may be effective.", Za'gara said. "Yet it is not original, it is just a concept of what you have done against me."

"You're talking about distraction?", Kerrigan asked.

"Yes, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "As you can recall, the Terrans had just established a second foothold, correct?"

"Yeah, what about it?", Kerrigan asked. "And why bother, we don't have that much numbers to strike at two places at once."

"We can grow more, expendable, in time, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "But the concern is the strategy itself and the Xel'Naga artifact which can potentially destroy any hope for an attack against the _Harkonnen_ emplacement. But, what if it was the other emplacement which was attacked, and not that of General Warfield?"

"Warfield wouldn't fall for it.", Kerrigan said, looking for a moment at the Brood Mother, than returning to look to the cargo hold floor. "Besides, that second place might not have the bigger guns installed yet, but you can bet it's as heavily guarded as the fortress outside."

"True, my Queen, but what if this attack were much more than even the Terran's most powerful weaponry could handle?", Za'gara said. "What if the situation were to spiral out of control, so that the _only_ thing that could save it's destruction would be the Xel'Naga artifact?"

"Za'gara, look, I know, you want to learn, you're trying hard, but you forgot that Warfield ain't stupid.", Kerrigan said, dismissively, staring at the Brood Mother. "He'll notice the distraction and won't move the artifact, at all."

"Then perhaps he may notice you, my Queen, if you are seen in the second Terran stronghold, in the open, leading the assault.", Za'gara said. "This may instigate him to move the artifact afar from _Harkonnen_, believing he is safe while actually we have a massive force awaiting to assault the stronghold."

"Za'gara, _Warfield won't fall, don't you get it?_", Kerrigan asked, stressful. "And even if he did, for how long would it take until he decides to turn around and take the artifact back? Have you _even_ considered the time?"

"We could have one hour, my Queen, perhaps two, given that the Terrans established themselves on the other side of Char.", Za'gara answered. "Izsha had been tracing the new Terrans with the aid of Overseers that I provided for her, and that Abathur extracted from my genetic knowledge."

"_One hour or two?_", Kerrigan asked. "It doesn't seem like we could do _much_ in one hour or two, with all those guns..."

"We could, my Queen.", Za'gara assured. "If done correctly, we could _succeed_ in this battle."

"You put too much faith in a plan _too unlikely_ to work.", Kerrigan replied, getting to her feet and closing in on the Brood Mother, stopping by the access ramp of the cargo hold. "First, Warfield has been for years in that commanding-a-war business, we're practically two novices. Second, even without the artifact, Warfield has enough guns to hold the place without needing to worry, just having to hold until the artifact gets back, charges up and roasts us all to hell. Third, unless you're suggesting I use the Nydus for fast transportation, there's no way I can be in one place and then in another, much ahead of the ship carrying the artifact."

"Perhaps there is no need to, my Queen.", Za'gara said, after a while, when Kerrigan turned around.

"What?", Kerrigan asked, dumbfounded, turning back. "Didn't you say Warfield might be convinced if he only saw me by that second base? How am I supposed to be there and yet be here, leading the fight?_ I can't be in two places at once, Za'gara!_"

"This is possible, with Zerg, my Queen.", Za'gara replied, humbly.

"_Possible!?_", Kerrigan asked, not understanding. "What are you talking about, you can actually _clone_ me?"

"Not exactly, my Queen.", Za'gara answered, shaking her head.

"Then what do you mean with that?", Kerrigan asked, crossing her arms.

"It is a quite difficult to elaborately explain, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "Yet, if you will follow me and behold what I will show you, you may be enlightened."

"Follow you to where?", Kerrigan asked.

"The Evolution Pit, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "It is where Abathur is keeping one of them."

"_One of them?_", Kerrigan asked. "You're not talking about an infested Terran and Abathur did something too awful to him or her, are you?"

"No, my Queen.", Za'gara said, plainly.

"Then what is it?", Kerrigan asked, losing her patience.

"Come, my Queen, please.", Za'gara asked. "It is what I ask. There, you will see."

Seeing as there was nothing else to do, Kerrigan stepped out through the torn ramp door and stepped back into the soft, slimy, warm flesh floor of the Leviathan.

"I'm gonna waste time with this, ain't I?", Kerrigan asked, fed up.

"It is the last thing you shall waste, my Queen, I assure you.", Za'gara assured, as both the Brood Mother and the Puppet Queen walked to one of the flesh doors, that would lead to the Evolution Pit.

* * *

**COMMANDER'S QUARTERS, _WHITE STAR_**

Hardscape had spent time on the chair of his desk reading the file that was now at his very hands. The results of the service he recently asked Elgin McCowler to do. The file that now contained about every skeleton on the Dominion's closet, one that McCowler admitted he had help with, but only because the said contact, Lio, he called, had asked to. Something concerning credibility and such, though McCowler didn't want to believe, neither Hardscape.

Still, the file was there. It was there and it detailed, step by step, every black ops efforts to aid the Dominion in the never ending war against the Zerg and Protoss, many of them performing practices that would, first hand, be abhorred and returned with disgust by the common masses. Such were the example of Project Gestalt and Project Shadowblade, which only had one thing in common, and that was the utilization of Terrazine. Other than that, it involved different processes, from aggressive mental resocialization and chemically altering the subjects or worse, modifying the very bodies in a way so horrid, like it was with the Gestalt Zero, a lost specimen, utilizing Protoss DNA and technology. Things that Hardscape could see that had every reason to remain a secret as the backlash would be enormous, and that would cost allies and public support the Dominion could need in the future. Other than these projects, there were a number of smaller efforts that were ultimately ignored or shutdown in favor of such projects. Two examples were Operation Inhaler, which attempted to combat Zerg through chemical warfare, but became ineffective due to the fast adaptations of the Zerg specimens, and Project Steelheart, an attempt to construct and employ an expendable automated army, with it's own functional AI, in an attempt to combat the Zerg with acceptable to no losses in manpower at all, but the excessive need for resources, those who've been ignored and denied, ensured the close to equal doom as the Inhaler.

Still, despite all the pages of technical details, financial and logistical reports, scientific and military logs and many other documents, none called his attention more than the repeated mentions to a particular project particular named Second Genesis. Something that wasn't anywhere on the file that McCowler brought along. According to McCowler, it wasn't anywhere on the Dominion Network. Yet, there was the problem that McCowler didn't even bother to check on this 'Lio' person, simply trusting on him.

That would have to be looked at first.

"_You simply trusted him?_", Hardscape asked to Elgin, whom stood at his feet at the other side of the desk. "And you didn't even bother to check on him?"

"On the third time I attempted, Cap'n, he got all fed.", McCowler said. "He said why the curiosity on him and... If by any case I wanted to bed him."

"Have you ever thought that this Lio could be, by a chance, someone from Internal Security?", Hardscape asked. "It wasn't the _kindergarten_ you were snooping around, after all..."

"I don' know, lad, he never told me.", McCowler said. "But he given me what ye asked, so I don' be complaining much."

"_This is serious!_", Hardscape roared. "We both could be in great trouble for this!"

"This Lio assured me there won't be.", McCowler defended himself. "He also said he'd call any second."

Suddenly, a beeping sound came from Hardscape's desk, getting the attention of both people on the room. Hardscape grinded his teeth, not liking that.

"_Is that some sort of joke?_", the Captain asked, as McCowler frowned.

Resigning, Hardscape simply pressed the button flashing as the intercom opened, connecting the Commander's Quarters with the Bridge.

"What is it?", Hardscape asked.

"Sir, we're getting a transmission from an untraceable source.", a male voice came through the video. "Audio only."

Hardscape only glared for a moment at McCowler.

"Put it through.", Hardscape said.

"Well, well, well, well...", suddenly, a flanged snazzy voice, yet like if it was distorted by electronics, spoke through the radio. "McCowler did his job right, d-didn't he? _Good boy._ Just don't mind if I don't have a cookie..."

"Lio, I presume...", Hardscape said, coldly.

"Quite correct, Captain Hardscape.", the voice, Lio, said. "And I presume it was you whom ordered our Irish friend to get looking for skeletons in Mengsk's locker, right, right, right? But wait, why to presume when I can be _sure_, Captain?"

"Who are you?", Hardscape asked, stressful. "What do you want?"

"Straight to the point, huh?", Lio asked. "I was hoping to have a little chat, it's been too much of a while since I had a conversation..."

"So what have you been doing all this time?", Hardscape answered, with an incredible sarcasm. "_Fishing a lot?_"

McCowler had a burst of laughter he tried to stifle in his mouth, but it was simply too funny.

"_Nice joke._", Lio deadpanned. "And answering your questions, Captain, I'm me. And I want what you want. That simple."

"And what would it be that, Lio?", Hardscape asked back, with some irony.

"Answers.", Lio answered. "An enigma solved, a charade unmasked. Though I thought you'd be like the others, not being as stupid as being too curious to know what Mengsk is cooking, to simply go and snoop in those files like the small brother reading the big sister's private diary. Did you know that curiosity killed more cats than men throughout history?"

Hardscape's face lost it's defiance with the words of this person. "_What are you talking about?_", Hardscape asked.

"Please, please, Captain, let's not pretend to play innocent, alright?", Lio asked. "McCowler may have not told me why he wanted the information, but I know you ordered it in the first place. I just got the notice."

"What the- _Are you a spy!?_", Hardscape asked, livid.

"No, and, just so you know, I'm not working for the ISD, either.", Lio answered, in a very snide way. "If I wanted, Captain, I'd have warned the Dominion of your snooping around before McCowler even started his work. You should be grateful me and Mengsk are not exactly in_ good graces_ with each other..."

"So you're someone close to him?", Hardscape said, angry. "For a moment, I thought you were a just punk behind a cheap computer, in a garage somewhere in Augustgrad..."

Lio snickered at that comment.

"Captain, I assure you, I'm _much more_ than that...", Lio answered. "And no, I'm not someone close to him. But let's not stray too far from the topic of the conversation. I have the answers you want, and you have the right question in your hands..."

"_Second Genesis?_", Hardscape asked.

"Impressive, Captain.", Lio answered, sounding amazed. "You asked that much more quicker than the others. Now, I ask, do you know something concerning that particular project?"

"Nothing more than the name.", Hardscape asked, glaring at McCowler. "And McCowler says he couldn't get anything of it..."

"But I couldn't, Cap'n!", McCowler exclaimed, insulted.

"Be quiet!", Hardscape ordered.

"Captain, Captain, Captain, you could order him to search the whole Black and White Opses up and down, out and inside every trouser and skirt, and he'd still fail, fail, _fail._", Lio said, coldly. "And that's because it's simply _not there._ Something so important wouldn't be in a place so obvious for everyone to try and take a snoop, even if it's well guarded..."

"Where it is, then?", Hardscape asked, stressful.

"In a clear lesson that you should expand your gaze.", Lio said. "Let's forsake the Dominion security and start looking in other places. Beginning with Moebius Foundation, a legitimate research group with an _apparently_ clean record, but a history just_ too turbulent_, akin to a Rollercoaster..."

"Why Moebius?", Hardscape asked.

"Please, Captain, just listen.", Lio said. "Listen and accept the story of a foundation that, prior to the end of the Brood War, a company that once reached it's glory was as imminent to find it's downfall and eventual, _natural_ extinction. But then, six months following the disaster that the battle of Char Aleph was, the foundation was bought and financed by the Terran Dominion, at the _very last possible moment._"

"As I recall, the Crown Prince was the one whom bought the Foundation.", Hardscape said.

"Publicly, that is true.", Lio said. "But, _privately_, it had been receiving financial injections and, let's put it this way, _solutions_ to remedy it's deplorable situation. Solutions for new, potential research had suddenly bred out of nowhere, solutions the Foundation blindly followed, and now leads them in the position they are today."

"_And I can presume Second Genesis is one of these solutions?_", Hardscape asked, concluding.

"Quite correctly, I'm afraid...", Lio answered, apparently smiling at the other side.

"And can I get the information concerning this project there, then?", Hardscape asked.

"I'm also afraid it's not so easy, nor simple.", Lio said. "The security Moebius developed for it's systems it's much more than what McCowler can handle, and he can be easily traced back. Besides, the information that you may find may be incomplete."

"_Incomplete!?_", Hardscape asked, upset. "So why should I look there!?"

"If you want the truth, Captain, it's the only way you'll find it.", Lio answered.

"_Like if I was going to easily trust your word..._", Hardscape said, all bitter.

"Well, mister Hardscape, I asked McCowler to take a leap of faith and he did.", Lio said. "_Look what he's brought you._ Now it's your turn, Captain. To do, or not to do, hence the question, question, question...", he added as he let out a chuckle in the end.

Hardscape simply frowned for a moment, staring at the communicator on his desk and taking deep breaths as he considered the option.

"Well, Captain?", Lio insisted.

"I'm thinking it over.", Hardscape said, rashly.

"I think you already did...", Lio teased. "_You just won't admit it._ You really, really, _really_ need my help, don't you?"

Hardscape, frustrated, slammed his left fist on the table and took a heavy breath.

"How do I get this information, then?", Hardscape asked, all bitter.

"You will need to look for someone with a certain set of talents, Captain.", Lio said. "Talents beyond those of your hacker. Fortunately, I know of one with such."

"And who is it?", Hardscape asked.

"He is currently stationed on the colony of New Babylon, in Cruxas III.", Lio said. "Look for the codename 'Turk'. My only advise is that you watch out for him, he has a reputation for being too undisciplined and _liberal_ for his own kind..."

"How do you know that?", Hardscape asked. "You worked with him?"

Lio let out a chuckle.

"I _studied_ with him.", he said. "I'm sure you'll recognize him too, if you've seen the news. At least, I hope you do watch the news, being in the position you are..."

After that, another beep was let out as the radio remained mute ever since.

"He went off, Captain.", the male voice, from the bridge, said then. "Should we call back or trace him?"

"Negative.", Hardscape said, after a brief pause, pressing the button and deactivating the intercom.

"Okay, Cap'n, the crapper just got more smellier...", McCowler said. "And he said you'd know this 'Turk' lad... Do ye, by any chance?"

"_Of course not!_", Hardscape retorted, tense. "How am I supposed to know someone whom I haven't met in the first place!?"

"Well, ye followin the lead or not?", McCowler asked, raising an eyebrow.

"_I'll have to ready the coffin too..._", Hardscape complained as he pressed the button of the intercom again, connecting to the bridge.

"You have called, Captain?", the male officer asked.

"Have the Helmsman set course for Cruxas III.", Hardscape ordered.

"Sir, we have no assignment related to that planet.", the officer protested.

"Just do it, Number One.", Hardscape said.

"Affirmative. Warming Warp Core now.", the officer replied.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"_What the hell is that?_", this was the very first question Kerrigan had ever done the moment she entered the Evolution Pit, with Za'gara, and had seen a very new type of creature unlike _any_ she had seen before, being attended by Abathur as he analyzed it. The chamber, other than that, seemed to have it's normal commotion, despite the fact there was a singular Infested Terran, who wasn't Richter, whom was watching the access to the deep section where the Colonel and his 'men' were.

The creature, clearly, was Zerg, like the rest, though it's appearance was what disturbed the most. The head was alien and insectile, with six eyes, a flesh orb in the forehead and a vertical toothed mouth with limbs in it's chin, neck and shoulders. The body, from the upper waist, was seemingly humanoid, with alien arms and hands, with three fingers and too thin to, apparently, ever pose a threat to anyone. The chest was purple and scaled and the belly seemed to show the vertebral spine, decorated by a line of muscles in the edges that reminded the vertical mouth. The back was filled with pustules divided by a set pf spines that ran alongside the back of the creature.

What was more disturbing was the appearance below the waist, a mingled mess of scaled flesh, with orbs and pustules everywhere and that seemed more slobbering and meant to keep the creature immobile rather than allowing to walk, but the flesh, with a small tail behind it, dragged itself like a slug, leaving a light trail of purple mucus behind it.

"This, my Queen, is a Changeling.", Za'gara answered, as Kerrigan and the Brood Mother walked up close. "A shape-shifting Zerg. One of the strains you have personally overseen it's development, one year prior to our return to the Terran sector, at the beginning of this war."

"Shape-shifting?", Kerrigan asked.

"The Changeling utilizes a protoplasmic substance, my Queen, in order to twist it's form and appearance.", Abathur explained to Kerrigan. "With such capacity, it can disguise itself into a form resembling a Terran, or even a Protoss."

"_It can disguise itself?_", Kerrigan asked, before staring at Za'gara. "You mean you want to use one of these things to disguise as myself? _A copycat of me?_"

"That is the intent of the Changeling, my Queen, yes.", Za'gara answered. "To look like someone else, to hide in plain sight, be it as a Terran, a Protoss or a Zerg. We have mostly utilized Changelings as an informational method, to collect and exploit any weaknesses within our enemies' holdings."

"But it can be _easily_ found.", Kerrigan said. "_Harkonnen_ has systems capable of discerning real Terrans from these things."

"The intent, my Queen, is not to infiltrate _Harkonnen_, but to deliver a false impression to the Terrans of the other stronghold that you are attacking them.", Za'gara said. "Although when, actually, it's naught but a Brood Mother, myself, who is coordinating the assault."

"And you expect that this will help us in the assault?", Kerrigan said.

"This can aid in forcing General Warfield in moving the Xel'Naga artifact.", Za'gara said. "Should _you_, my Queen, and by _you_ I mean the Changeling, be seen in the second Terran stronghold leading the assault, this can force the Terran General to move away the artifact from his stronghold, allowing us to attack the fortress."

Kerrigan simply looked for a moment at the slobbering Zerg creature. She felt some light of hope come up on her. Perhaps there was a chance... Yet, she shook her head.

"_No._", Kerrigan said, in denial. "No, Warfield's just_ too smart_ to fall for that. And he'd even suspect, even if 'I' was seen bare and in the open. It's just too _obvious_, even for him."

"And yet, my Queen, he would not bear to stand still as the Terrans at the second stronghold fall by the minute due to the assault.", Za'gara said. "He will want to do something."

"_I doubt it._", Kerrigan said, coldly. "And he will suspect, seeing that I'm there but the Leviathan's still here."

"Then this can lend credence to his suspicions.", Za'gara said, realizing something. "If Izsha approves, my Queen, we can lift off the Leviathan and fly in the direction of the second stronghold. Then, after a few moments, we start the attack on the second stronghold, leading Warfield to believe you are actually striking that emplacement, when we turn around and strike _Harkonnen_ itself."

"_We wouldn't have time to land and unload, Za'gara!_", Kerrigan protested, angry. "The artifact may be away, but Warfield will only have to unleash a nuke on us the moment we're seen."

"We can lift off with the Leviathan empty.", Za'gara said. "A hive cluster established somewhere close to it, where the attacking force can await for the hour to strike. We could do it in caverns, up close, to prevent Terran thermal scanning, if necessary."

Kerrigan could easily see Za'gara's strategy, though it was too obvious, had some shred of sense, as it consisted in fooling the General in making a move, and even acting to provide legitimacy to the case. Though, too, she hesitated a bit because of the same, explicit obviousness. It seemed too ridiculously easy and simple, even for Zerg.

"_But it's just too easy._", Kerrigan said, dumbstruck. "And, again, too obvious, Warfield wouldn't fall for that. He could even let out a scan to check either my thermal body or even my Psi Index..."

"Fortunately, my Queen, this can be easily imitated.", Abathur said, suddenly.

"What do you mean, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, looking at the Zerg geneticist.

"When you have designed the Changeling substrain, my Queen, you have accounted for the possibility of mental psionic scans performed by the Terrans' psionic Ghost agents.", Abathur answered. "The Changeling can emit an impression of psionic capacity to lead Terrans to believe that is an actual Terran being, not a simulate."

"So even if he scans, he'd think I was there?", Kerrigan asked, shrugging her forehead in disbelief.

"That is the intention, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"_But Warfield will notice, don't you both get it!?_", Kerrigan said, fed up. "Especially if I'm just standing up a rock and doing nothing but looking!"

"The idea is to be simply seen, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "General Warfield can be easily fooled to believe you are not fighting, but commanding the Zerg. The Changeling can even press the temple at the head, to have Warfield's belief in the false scenario."

Kerrigan simply paused for a moment, attempting to consider the plan that Za'gara constructed. It seemed too easy to fail, but it still held a potential Kerrigan had not accounted for. Of course, given she didn't know of the Changeling strain until then, obviously another information of all that which was lost with the firing of the Xel'Naga artifact.

And the worse was that it didn't even sound like a strategy, but like a theater play where the wrong timing or acting could make the curtains fall, exposing the whole scene and having Warfield realize it was all a ruse. The worse could be if the foul move was done too early, giving him time to move the artifact back or not even move it out, at all.

And it all depended to a creature that could easily be discovered, even if it managed to make as a perfect imitation of Kerrigan as it could. Something that depended on a creature that could behave erratically, it didn't even seem it'd work.

"And that's the best you did, Za'gara...", Kerrigan said, letting out a sigh. "It has everything it needs to get wrong."

"Not if it is done in the correct way, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "With the correct acting, at the correct timing."

"Doesn't even sound like a sound strategy.", Kerrigan said, staring at the Brood Mother.

"It is not, I confess.", Za'gara said. "It is, as you once stated, years ago, a bold move. Perhaps too bold. But it is better than nothing I could conceive, thus far."

"_Better?_", Kerrigan asked, raising her eyebrows. "You call a plan whose main focus is a simple creature better?"

"The risk, should it not be effective, is minimal, at best, but the return is highly potential.", Za'gara said. "If this plan does not work, we can still run or prepare for the worst. However, if it does, we may have a fighting chance and accomplish a victory thought impossible. A great feat."

"You're being _too_ optimistic, Za'gara, you know that?", Kerrigan deadpanned.

"Perhaps, my Queen.", Za'gara said, humbly. "Perhaps I have a _vision_..."

Kerrigan simply stared at the Brood Mother for a moment before she closed her eyes and shook her head, letting out a sad sigh.

"_You haven't learned a damn thing..._", Kerrigan said, lightly disappointed.

Za'gara then bowed and looked below.

"Then forgive me, my Queen, for my failure.", Za'gara said, sadly. "Still, will you at least consider the potential of this scheme?"

Kerrigan simply looked at the Brood Mother, for a moment.

"You said it can take the artifact off _Harkonnen_, right?", Kerrigan asked, coldly. "But what of the_ other_ defenses? What of the Bombard Turrets, the artillery, the land mines, the base turrets, the air force?"

Za'gara closed her glowing eyes.

"I...", Za'gara hesitated. "I am still to plan something concerning these, my Queen..."

"Somehow, I was _certain_ you were.", Kerrigan said, disappointed, as she turned around to leave the Evolution Pit. Za'gara was left alone, with Abathur behind, still tending to the Changeling.

"Damnation...", Za'gara cursed. "_An entire hour of production of stratagem wasted.._."

"I tend to disagree, Za'gara, out of an individual opinion.", Abathur then said, behind the Brood Mother, with his deep monotone voice. "The stratagem, developed based on logical research of Terran psychology, carries in itself a potential."

"And what do you know of the concept of warfare, _geneticist?_", Za'gara asked, turning around, with disdain.

"In a profound point of view, my knowledge is non-existent.", Abathur said. "From a technical point of view, however, I understand that warfare derives in more than the application and use of material resources to defeat the opponent. In several cases, it involves an application of psychological reactions to confuse and misdirect opponents into actions that are expected in a stratagem. Your stratagem to relocate the Xel'Naga artifact has a very strong psychological potential that can directly result in a physical probability for success."

"Yet our Queen is not approving of such stratagem, small creature.", Za'gara said, coldly.

"You forsake that our Queen was stripped of the majority of her mental memories, so much as her physical and psionic conditions.", Abathur said. "Perhaps the failure is not in the concept of the stratagem, but in our Queen's incapacity to understand the potential this strategy can affect in the coming assault."

"It seemed she understood it, Abathur, and yet she has not accepted it could be effective.", Za'gara said. "How can this be explained?"

"By doubt, un-knowledge and what the Terrans call their uncertainty in effectiveness as 'lack of faith'.", Abathur answered. "Traits that are exclusively Terran. And our Queen is of Terran origin."

"_As unfortunate as it is..._", Za'gara said, with a small tone of anger. "Perhaps, if oversee something in the stratagem, I may do something to convince our Queen to consider the stratagem..."

"I am afraid you do not need to conceive anything further, Za'gara.", Abathur said. "What is necessary, now, is dependent on our Queen. On her approval."

* * *

**COMMAND CENTER, DOMINION SECONDARY FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _DOOM HAMMER_**  
**DEAD END MOUNTAINS, CHAR**

The sight of the nightly sky of Char, with the sight of one of the purple, either Eris or Ate, was what decorated the otherwise fiery landscape of the Dead End Mountains, a collection of endless towering rocks, forming spikes of some type that tethered into the skies above. A large ocean of lava, on the other side, lightened a bit above anything close by, even the supposed coast, actually a cliff tethering below. On some of the rocks, small strains of lava ran down to the ground, lighting up some of the broken crags on the afar entrance of the mountain. Actually, the Dead End mountains hardly reminded an actual mountain, but a semi circle with a steep entrance and exit above, surrounding a small circle of ground that was mostly comprised of cracked ground still running with strains of lava, accessing the small plateau that the Doom Hammer fortress, of the Terran Dominion, was being laid upon. A geographic position mostly stable, though unreliable too, according to some men, because of the lava. Old tales from some soldiers, whom fought in the very First Great War, told that the Dead End Mountains actually formed a volcano, filled with boiling lava in the center. That was before a massive earthquake shook practically the entire southern hemisphere of Char, with enough strength to crack and collapse the volcano atop of it, covering the lava above it and almost shutting it down. The cracked rock towers were told to be remainders of the volcano that remained on their feet.

But none of the history of this place was what interested Prescott Maddox at the moment. What interested him were two things. The first was the construction of his stronghold, where the scaffolding for the base of the Primary Operations Command facility could be seen, as well as the first set of front walls and the gate, whom was still to be completed, as the construction crews worked their pace. The _Doom Hammer_ would extend like a namesake, starting with the cable, by the very coast, where the P.O.C. was practically shielded from aerial attacks and impervious to flanking, leaving only the choice to either circle the volcano and try to hit through the coast access, where a number of Missile Turrets and Gun Batteries would welcome the trespassers, or through the very front door, where the invaders would be welcomed with the same anti-air defenses with the addition of massive artillery, minefields and gun emplacements. For the moment, the artillery was being provided by Siege Tanks in Siege Mode, spread across the temporary installation of Terran structures, that included a Planetary Fortress, landed in the basin and close to the ramp leading to the large, though narrow plateau.

The second thing was when Warfield would accomplish his orders and finally get done with that trinket. He was as much of a traitor as was a weakling, that's what Maddox thought. Since when did a General have to depend on an alien artifact to defeat one whom clearly could be killed with a simple bullet? Since when did someone whom managed to lead five separate invasions against the Swarm need to rely on pirates and criminals? The explanation, perhaps, could be found in his age. Warfield was already past the sixties, thus he must have been going soft and _senile_ on the matter... But not less cunning on his paranoia to not let go the alien toy, saying he couldn't hold against the Zerg without it, even though he had an enormous amount of guns, soldiers and batteries to deal with the numbers of the Swarm.

Maddox often wondered to himself why Mengsk had the idea to bring in Warfield from his retirement to fight the Zerg. If it wasn't to impress the media and calm the masses, like he did when he made the announcement, he couldn't know what else was there... Not to mention Warfield, himself, had the most terrible of all diseases, the one most hated by any political body._ Sentimentality._ Feelings that should have been stomped clean, with resocialization or indoctrination, were still present and prevailing in the General, he whom abandoned the Confederacy after the nuclear bombardment of Korhal IV. Such feelings were useless and had no place in the modern military of his Emperor.

_Duty. Loyalty. Obedience._ Strict, _direct_ obedience. Those were the values the Dominion was interested in. Those were the traits he got indoctrinated with, since his resocialization, his fate so much as that of all those UED prisoners of war, captured after the reclamation of Korhal. Now, he was something different. Something more loyal.

Maddox's apparently stern and strong face remained that way, overlooking the only entrance to the Dead End Mountains, the only access for any strike to occur. He was pratically safe, unlike Warfield, whom was exposed to aerial agressions from practically every direction. Not to mention the very front entrance was wide and enough to launch a thick attack force, even with all the artillery that Warfield had.

"General Maddox.", a voice called on Maddox' intercom, a male one.

"What is it?", Maddox asked, in his arrogance.

"Transmission, sir, from _Harkonnen_.", the voice said, no doubt coming from one of the Command Centers or the Planetary Fortress. "They say it's urgent."

"So they have finally moved the Xel'Naga artifact to the _Marathon_?", Maddox asked.

"Please, sir, hold on...", the voice requested. "Negative, they haven't moved it out of _Harkonnen_, yet."

"So they're under attack?", Maddox asked, with a bad taste in his mouth.

"Negative, sir, they don't seem to be.", the voice replied.

"Ignore them, then.", Maddox ordered.

"Sir, are you sure-", the voice started asking.

"I made it strictly clear to that imbecile Warfield that he's only to call me if the Xel'Naga artifact is aboard the _Marathon_, and that I_ intend_ to keep this word to the latter, officer!", Maddox interrupted. "And as I've made my word, you are to keep it. Is that understood?"

A brief pause than proceeded.

"Affirmative, General.", the officer said. "Will ignore. What of the annex file?"

"That goes away as well.", Maddox answered. "No doubt, it must be a scientific video with claims the artifact is unstable and such. Excuses, if you ask me, from Warfield to keep the damn thing. I can't even imagine what he does with that thing, that is not adult related..."

"Yes, sir.", the officer replied. "Done."

"Good.", Maddox said. "If they persist, officer, keep ignoring them. They will learn, one way or another, that orders are orders and they are to be fulfilled. Am I strictly clear on this?"

"Crystal, sir.", the officer said.

"Something else, then, officer?", Maddox asked.

"Negative, sir.", the officer said. "Coming off now. Base out."

Only silence proceeded then, as Maddox continued looking forward as people around him worked around the clock. For one way or another, the orders would be obeyed and accomplished.

_One way or another._

* * *

**LOWER HALLS, DAELAAM ARK  
CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

Tire and a bit more of pain got up again as she walked out of the War Chamber, this time, having been cleared with the blessing's of N'arkham, to now proceed at what Biblos called the obstacle track, though still with those ball shackles on, activated and weighing down on her. For two more times she had stopped and rested when ordered, though this time she talked almost nothing to the Zer'atai. Though it was unknown if Protoss could sweat or not, it was clear that Lasarra had worked an entire day in developing her strength. Still, however, the day was still far from finished. Now it would come a greater challenge, and it was clear Lasarra would have a disadvantage from beginning to end. Biblos wanted this, no doubt. More humiliation to follow, in attempt to get up on her. Still, she remained strong and willing for more, for the Praetor's soon to be seen distaste. She got used to the pain and the weight, her anger struggling to keep her in check.

She's seen as she arrived then, through the teleporter pad, at the lower decks of the Daelaam Ark, to see the hall ahead of her was occupied with Zealots, all in a line and crowding the hall. She walked ahead then, her head tall, as she waited behind the line that towered ahead of her, those warriors looking all ahead, not bothering to look behind. The hall, golden like the rest, was pretty well illuminated, though there wasn't much she could see. Then, gradually, the hall and the warriors began to mumble more and more silently until there was a dead mute silence everywhere around the Initiate.

On the other side of the line of warriors, Biblos could see and look sideways in the face of each and every one of those warriors as he slowly walked across that hall. Lasarra could her the heavy steps so much as everyone, but she did not have to guess to whom those sounds she heard belonged to.

"I am not seeing her.", Biblos said. "She was supposed to be here, after the ordeal in the War Chamber. Perhaps she took heed to my warning. Perhaps she has stepped away."

"I have not!", Lasarra suddenly exclaimed, from behind a line of warriors that Biblos turned to, slightly behind him. The warriors, by that branch of the line, noticed the short female behind them and opened room for her to pass, carrying the ball shackles many came to remember during their training. Her hands were clenched into her fists, as she stared high into the Praetor whom put her in that state in the first place. The hall was golden, like the remainder, but now she could see there was mostly an open avenue, and that several of the Zealots from the War Chamber were lining against the walls as well as the side accesses and intersections. She could see one or two were carrying a staff of some sort. For what reason, Lasarra could not know. Ahead of her, she could see some of the warriors in Zealot suits in the middle, all standing tall and at their disposal close to an energy line, that glowed high in blue.

"Your stare still does not frighten me, Initiate.", Biblos said, coldly. "Do you feel wearied? Do you feel tired and in pain?"

"No. A warrior knows none of that, Praetor.", Lasarra answered, coldly, continuing to stare at him.

"The simple 'No' would have sufficed.", Biblos said. "And what do you _know_ about a warrior?"

"As little as I can fight.", Lasarra said, struggling to fight the weight of those wrist balls. The warriors chuckled in a small mockery around her.

"_Good that you admitted it._", Biblos said, coldly. "Your stare is one of anger, Initiate?"

"It is, Praetor.", Lasarra answered. "Though 'tis not what you believe it is."

"_You dare presume what I believe?_", Biblos asked, in a threatening tone.

"Of course not.", Lasarra said, bitterly. "I am no mind reader, Praetor."

It was when she heard mumbling instead, one of either surprise or shock at the audacity of the Initiate. Still, a victory small. Biblos approached her, then.

"Insolence, with me, is as rewarded as praise.", Biblos said, threatning. "You will gain nothing with either or both. I will not warn, the next time. Stand by the energy line, behind all others."

Lasarra then walked forward, as she stood behind those warriors whom now looked forward, to the track they would race ahead. Biblos stepped ahead, circling the warriors and Lasarra herself, until he stood at the left corner, by the supposed finish line.

"Warriors. Initiate.", Biblos started, coldly. "Many, like you, say a warrior is someone whom kills for his people. This is not wrong, but it is not right, either. A warrior is a fulcrum of several balances, that tether to one another in an unending struggle for one to weight more than the others. Yet, if this happens, the balance falls. And if the balance falls, so does the warrior. That is why the warrior endlessly practices with exhaustion and commitment, to upkeep the balance. He hones his strength, he controls his anger, he tempers his impulses, he enforces and absorbs discipline, he sharpens his mind and he heightens his senses. In battle, he has no hunger but for action, no thirst but for blood, no fear but of dishonor through cowardice or failure. Yet, he is not foolish to run straight to the jaws of death, he is not arrogant or proud to fight a difficult struggle alone, nor allows himself to be easily taunted, but he also will not admit tales of cowardice or treasonous actions. That is why, when a warrior trains, he swears an oath. An oath to be as strong as the mountain, as flexible as the river, as agile as the wind, as dangerous as the fire."

Lasarra stood by as she listened and tried to absorb the lesson that Biblos was now teaching her, staring at his direction, though the Praetor couldn't see it. The others, however, looked forward. The Initiate had to confess, for one of his kind, he knew how to speak things that otherwise would be called boring.

"Here, you will train your endurance, your strength, your speed, your agility and your instincts.", Biblos said. "The course ahead is long and will have all sorts of obstacles possible. One of you is certain to not pass this training."

Lasarra's fists only clenched further at the insult.

"There will be only one turn to this race.", Biblos said. "The first ahead of all others shall be free of the remaining burden of training, but will dedicate this day to focusing his concentration on the Khala. The last behind of all will train twice as harder than the others. The remainder will not change anything."

Biblos then walked slowly to the right corner of the room. Lasarra could notice some of the warriors were focusing, like if they were getting ready to run. She could feel like it was the time.

"Go.", Biblos said. It was the last word on the matter, as Lasarra and all others took off and ran. Though Lasarra was the only one whom ran normally, even with the balls weighing down on her. As for all the others, a flash of blue energy trail erupted as the Zealots flashed forward at a speed twice than that Lasarra was currently running, but only for a brief moment. Still, it was enough for all of those warriors to move a bit far ahead of the Initiate. A technique that many Zealots learned with the passing of eons from those whom fought in the Brood War, the ability to turn their bodies into pure energy, if only for a few microseconds, to move at lightning-fast speeds and approaching enemies who'd think they were at a safe distance, particularly Terran Marines, whom had the audacity of pulling back and back as they fired against the approaching warriors of the Daelaam.

Lasarra widened her eyes at the ability of those Zealots to Charge, and how they used it to gain an edge too early in the race. All the meanwhile there she was, with those balls shackled and hurting her wrists. Biblos' insult was more of a fact, as he did it on purpose, no doubt. He was aware that the initiate would not succeed in her race and would arrive last. Her day would be a burden far greater than the others. Curse that bastard Praetor, she thought, curse his arrogance and his apparent abuse, curse the velocity of those Zealots whom were more prepared and experienced than her in the matter, and curse herself for her weakness. Those were the curses that now ran on her mind as she ran with all the strength she had to the end of the first straight track, turning left by a corridor. She could see the intersections were blocked by transparent, circular containers made of glass, filled with hexagons and energy running along those glasses, no doubt borrowed from the scientific expedition to that world for the purpose of the exercise. They alone denoted the limits of the track and cut off any hopes for shortcuts or any alternative routes any of the warriors or Lasarra could take.

Ahead, she could also see the first set of obstacles set ahead of her, no doubt positioned to form slaloms of sorts to test the agility and speed in curves. It was practically empty, as she could see the warriors ahead have already made it through. She didn't stop, however, as she arrived and made the curves of those slaloms, also made from the containers. Though, too, the slaloms seemed rather too wide for the running type. Nothing happened, by then, as there was a small section of clear road ahead and then a turn to the right, also clear, then another to the left, where she could see the very first of true obstacles ahead, a large stack of chests piled one atop the other, like crates piled by Terrans in their installations, with a passage in the middle, forming a fork of a sorts. Doubtless this was made for those people to climb upwards and proceed on, to train their strength. As she approached the chest stack, she jumped as high as she could, managing to get a hold on the edge of the chest, though the weight of the shackled balls made her loose her grip, making her fall. Growling, she jumped again and she grabbed the edge with more strength, putting all her strength she could muster to climb those crates, growling in pain of the weight the balls caught up. It took more than ten seconds before Lasarra could finally get her forearms, to pull herself up on the crates. Her body tired and in pain, she got on her feet when she reached and followed the forked passage, where it cleared on the other side, where she could then see a depression below, with several hexagons where people must step upon quickly. She then dropped from the stacked chests and followed to the depression where she started jumping in the hexagon pillars, where some of them starting to descend to below and she nearly lost balance, noticing that she'd need to be both fast and precise, though she was tired, too, to do so. On one step, she lost her balance and fell, her hands only being quick to brag one of the hexagon pillars that didn't fell. Her three hearts were beating too quickly as she struggled to hold her grip and eventually rise to that hexagon.

Returning to above the hexagon, she knew that she would never make it, she was already too far behind. She got on her feet and started hopping over the other hexagons, all but wanting to finish the course and pay the price.

'_You are not concentrating._'

The female voice had caught Lasarra by surprise, by the time she managed to hop the remaining hexagons and come to the other side. She closed her eyes and decided to continue. She couldn't believe it was happening again, like if in the chambers during her initiation wasn't enough. She turned to the right, seeing that the corridor was clear and decided to proceed forward.

'_Listen to me. You need help. I can help you pick up the pace, but you must listen._'

"I will not fall for that again...", Lasarra mumbled, angry, as she continued to run through the corridor.

'_I am not Laelna, Lasarra, and you are not in the chamber._', the voice said. '_It is me, Naviri. I can sense you are far behind._'

"How?", Lasarra asked, coldly. "How can you sense what I feel and how I am?"

'_You forget my connection to the Khala, Lasarra._', 'Naviri' said. '_When we met, we unexpectedly formed a bond with just that conversation._'

"I find it hard to believe...", Lasarra said.

'_Just listen, Initiate._', Naviri said. '_Normally, I would not do anything, given Biblos lessons are always meant to humiliate his students, but he now has crossed the limit. He manipulated those hexagon pillars so you would fall on purpose!_'

"I, for one, never expected of him to play _fair_...", Lasarra said.

'_He never does, but it seems he has made a special case with you!_', Naviri said. '_So you should not play fair, either. I can help you in utilizing the Khala to fortify your vigor and charge, like those Zealots do._'

"If I am going to finish, Naviri, even in failure, I will do it in fighting fairly!", Lasarra said, firmly.

'_Now is the worst of all times for you to have a streak of pride!_', Naviri exclaimed. '_You have not been in the punishment he places those whom fail the track. Believe me, I went there, before. These balls you carry are nothing compared._'

"_But he shall notice, should I do something!_", Lasarra said.

'_I am making my effort to shield my mind from his reading, but the barrier will not last long._', Naviri said, a bit tense. '_Now, listen to me. You can access the capacity to return your strength should you concentrate yourself enough on the Khala. Concentrate, and you will manage to make it through._'

"'Tis a bit hard for me to concentrate, given the pains I now feel!", Lasarra exclaimed, angry.

'_Hold the chains to the balls, then._', Naviri said. '_Swing the ball and hold them with your hands. This should relieve the pressure bringing down your wrists. Other than that, you have to fight through the pain._'

"I cannot simply do this!", Lasarra shouted.

'_You can, Lasarra._', Naviri said. '_The barrier has fallen! I have to go! Remember, concentrate!_'

"_What?_", Lasarra asked, as she ran a bit more forward and she turned left, to notice another set of challenges like the first one, coming across a very long corridor, where she could see new obstacles. She could see a set of electric barriers filled with electricity, letting out arcs of shock that no doubt were meant to electrify those whom passed through. One meant to test the resistance. The next, far ahead and past the barriers, was another set of chests piled above, forming a new pathway, though this one was not meant to be seen.

Growling in pain, she advanced forward and running, trying to concentrate herself on the teachings of the Khala, though these ones only covered, for her, the most basic of accesses, the highest being only available by those above the Khalai Caste, Templar or Judicator. She attempted to recite the words of the Khalai in her mind. Still, it was a bit difficult to concentrate, but Naviri told to persist on the effort. That was before she reached the first arc, whose lighting touched her body and let out an immense quantity of pain upon her body. She nearly fell to the ground, to her knees, before the second arc. Angry and fighting through the pain, Lasarra got up from the ground and crossed the second arc, more pain coming up on her from the eletrical current, making her fall. She looked above to see there were four more arcs before it would end and she'd approach the new chest stack. She attempted to fight through it, and cross the third arc. The moment she crossed it, she fell entirely to the ground, the pain and tire simply being too much. Simply being beyond her capacity to get up. She simply could not get to her feet.

'_Lasarra._'

A new voice had come up on her mind. A male one, one which seemed to be more wise. She attempted to come up on her feet, but the tire was already too much and exhausting, something those arcs had seen to it.

'_You are in pain. You must concentrate. Only then, can you return to your strength._', the voice said again.

Lasarra simply shut tight her eyes in the pain that now afflicted her, to the point of almost fainting.

'_You must concentrate, Lasarra. You must allow us to help._'

'_I... cannot..._'

'_Try and repeat with me. I fear not death..._'

'_I fear... not death..._'

'_For the Khala is my strength_.'

'_For... For..._'

'_Try, Lasarra. Do not stop now._'

'_For the... Khala... is my strength._'

'_I fear no enemy..._'

'_I... fear no... enemy..._'

'_For our strength is eternal. Say it._'

'_For our... For our..._'

'_Continue. Do not stop._'

'_For our... strength is... eternal._'

'_Again, Lasarra. Do not stop._'

'_I fear not death... For..._'

'_Continue._'

'_For the Khala... is my strength. I fear... no..._'

'_Persist, Lasarra._'

'_Fear... no enemy..._'

'_Persist._'

'_For our strength... is eternal._'

Suddenly, Lasarra felt something envelop her body and she could barely look at it. All she could see was a mist of blue, beginning to form around and touch her body.

'_Continue. Repeat again, Lasarra._'

'_I fear not death, for the... Khala is my strength._'

The mist, then, started to touch her body. A strange current started running along the Initiate's skin, one that stung like a million micro-needles into her body. However, it didn't even seem to _hurt_, but only putting pressure. The feeling was enough for her to open her eyes further and stare at the mist that seemed to surround her and her alone.

'_What is this..._'

'_Do not stop, Lasarra. Continue. Keep repeating._'

'_I fear no enemy... For our strength is eternal._'

Lasarra could feel herself being pulled out of the ground as the mist only grew stronger. Her body now felt motionless and touching nothing as she floated and turned so it'd be on her feet. The energy current now seemed to be _neutralizing_ the pain that now afflicted her body. She could look into her arms and hands and notice that, running through her skin and glowing in microscopic crags, the energy was running, like if it were reinvigorating her muscles.

'_Do not stop, Lasarra. You are managing it, continue._'

'_I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength._'

'_Continue._'

'_I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal._'

The mist only intensified, as it's glow, too. As she floated a few meters above the ground, she could feel her body was feeling much more better than before. The pain was ceasing and so was the tire, her vigor only increasing. Lasarra was as dumbstruck as impressed, her eyes widening as she could feel the very touch of the Khala, unlike what she experienced before, in her reciting and praying prior to her rest, after those hours crafting Khaydarin Crystals for jewelry used in the Protoss suits and armor, or weaving the garments those same Protoss used. This was something more stronger, more powerful, more healing. Lasarra could feel her strength increasing as well. So was her vigor, renewing by the moment.

'_Do not stop, Lasarra. Again._'

'_I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength. I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal._'

'_Continue._'

'_I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength. I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal!_'

'_Again._'

'_I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength! I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal!_'

'_One more time. You are almost there._'

'_I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength! I fear no enemy, for our strength IS ETERNAL!_'

Suddenly, a flash erupted from Lasarra, though it didn't damage anything or release a shockwave of destruction, as the mist then evaporated and faded away. Lasarra, slowly, began to descend to the floor until her feet touched it. As she then started to notice, she realized practically much of her pain and tire were practically gone, seeming her strength was very much the same it was when she first entered the War Chamber. Even the ball shackles, that were weighting heavy upon her, were not taking such a _higher_ toll, now, like it was when she first came to hold those trinkets. She was impressed as well as hopeful, her spirits renewed. It was something that would allow her to survive the very training. It seemed, in her personal opinion, it was why those whom trained to become Zealots could be able to survive those ordeals and train to become the feared warriors of the Protoss race.

Though the truth of it was far more wider than Lasarra's simpleton view. The Khala wasn't simply a sort of a religion where admiration and utmost respect for their shrines, temples and objects of worship like the Khaydarin Crystals was welcome and obligatory. The Khala was based on a philosophy that maintains a communal psionic link between all those whom practiced it, an empathic link lost when the Xel'Naga abandoned Aiur and the Protoss to their fate of destruction by the Aeon of Strife, but was rediscovered when Khas himself encountered the Khaydarin Crystals, that allowed the Protoss to reunite the link, negate the destructive self-hatred through the embracing of collective positive emotions and put an end to the Strife, beginning the Second Age. The Khala, and those whom practiced, only required a certain loss of the person's self in benefit of all others, but the loss could also be drastic. It was such that drove some Protoss, whom would become the Dark Templar, to sever their nerve cords to cut the empathic link. Others that were severed from the Khala, like the Tal'Darim, often did it through the use of Sundrop, a powerful drug that often provoked mental instability, with prolonged use.

The depth of the empathic link varied much according to the personal choice of the practician, but it is known that the deeper the immersion into the link, the higher the restoration and reinvigoration of the individual. That is what much explained why memebers of the Templar and Judicator Castes immersed deeply several times a day, so much or even more than those of the lower Khalai. It was often necessary, too, so the highest of psionic warriors, the High Templar, could unleash their Psionic Storms or sacrifice themselves, reluctantly, to become the large and feared, though brief, Archons. The strength of the Khala, thanks to most of those whom embraced it, was what could grant the strength to continue and fight on as well as protect the Protoss from assimilation by the Zerg. The psionic link was the explanation, as the infestation process required one assimilated to be forced into the link with the Hive Mind, and the deep attuning with the Khala mostly denied such assimilation, which only led to the death of any Protoss assimilated. In the end, the Khala was not only something that could deliver hope, but something to sustain such hope. It could deliver the strength and the power for it.

Lasarra gazed at the strength renewed she now had as she then looked at the remaining four arcs with the electricity running across them. She now felt she could pass through them, fighting through the pain by passing between the electricity spurted out by each side of the arcs. Preparing herself and gripping her hands on the chains of the shackled balls, as Naviri suggested, she then ran across the four arcs, each jolt of electricity striking her in quick succession as it hit her painfully, while Lasarra grunted and then yelped with pain as she crossed the final arc and fell to her knees. Not willing to give up yet, after she recovered, she started running again, starting to climb the chest stacks and then running past them, where she then could see a new obstacle past it, a series of hexagons, in six rows, though these ones had no depression below to fall to. Still, Lasarra was well aware this could be a trap in itself, one meant to test the thinking speed, as well as body and mental instincts. Some of these other hexagons had glowing blue circles while others had not, clearly distributed to space one another in-between.

Getting down from the second chest stack, Lasarra stepped forward and tried to wonder what would be the best path, even knowing that she could know the correct path, meaning this would have to be through trial by error. Lasarra would have to take a risk. She first stepped into the first hexagon ahead of her, and then the second, to the left, and nothing happened to her. The third, by the right, however, started to let out a violent burst of steam, meant to hurt Protoss that stepped into it. As she predicted, a trap, but fortunately she stepped back without losing balance. She then stepped into the hexagon to the far right, and nothing happened, and then she stepped into the one to the left, where this one blew up the steam right below her. The violent, hot burst, made her quickly jump forward, burning hot in pain, though there was no fire burning atop of her. She then jumped the final row, passing through it as she resumed the run, turning left into the newest corridor, a long one with no obstacles, just the racing, where she started running to end the ordeal, aware of her failure.

However, when she made past half of the long corridor, she also saw something she never expected, especially at that point of the track.

A Zealot, a last one, that was limping, though it was also attempting to run.

Lasarra was surprised, her eyes widening. She believed every last one of them were supposed to have finished by now. Perhaps she wasn't that far behind. A small shred of hope picked up as she started to put her strength in the racing, ignoring the pain and the tire that were returning, especially after crossing four sets electrical arcs and getting over a steam vent. The Zealot ahead did not seem to be running, at all, no doubt believing the Initiate was far behind. However, the sound of coming steps as well as shackle chains making a noise called the warrior's attention.

"_What?_", the Zealot said, before he turned to look behind, seeing an Initiate hurting to try and reach him. "No! **NO!**"

Immediately, the Zealot started running farther and farther, ignoring the pain in his right leg, as both raced to reach the final curve to the left. Lasarra put her strength to the test, at least making an effort to try and see if she could get ahead of this one, but the eons that this warrior already trained as a Zealot could only make him run faster, though he wasn't using his Charge, as he could hardly concentrate. Lasarra found it odd, as Zealots were supposed to fight through the pain to concentrate, unless something was truly wrong with his leg, beyond simpleton pain.

"You will not prevail Initiate!", the Zealot roared, though Lasarra ignored. "_You cannot!_"

The space practically remained the same, only diminishing very little until the supposed final turn to the left, where the warriors and the energy line, the finish line, were on the await. He roared the same as she had, he fighting through the pain in his leg as she fought all the pains she suffered thus far, to that point. Both continued to run, only a medium space separating both, as they reached the line of warriors approaching both.

By the time they arrived to the line of warriors, like the crowds applauding those whom raced, though this one had no applause, the Zealot had turned his attention to looking behind, to see if Lasarra was coming closer, when suddenly something came up on him. Something Lasarra could see. A staff, from one of the warriors whom hit him on the belly, and that made the Zealot lose his speed at the sudden pain. Now the Initiate could see what those staffs were for and what they meant.

Just because the race was at the verge of ending, it didn't mean it was going to be easy. A reprieve, even less.

The space between both Lasarra and that Zealot diminished as a new staff was headed in her way, to her very head. Reacting quickly, she put her arms forward and blocked the impact as she continued running, reminding of the lesson Biblos taught her early. The lesson to not simply stand still at the coming aggression. A second staff had hit the Zealot in the leg, unfortunately the injured one, making the Zealot almost trip and eventually fall down. A second staff came up on Lasarra, by the chest, and that she blocked again, but a third was quick to hit her on the head, making her yelp in pain, but she continued to run. The other Zealot was quick to get on his feet, by the time a fourth staff hit Lasarra in the leg, and it hit hard, making the Initiate fall. Seeing the energy line a few meters ahead, he started to run again, though Lasarra could notice that the warrior had gotten on his feet and she immediately got on her feet as quick as she could, jumping to hit the energy line, finishing the matter. She fell a painful fall, though she did not regret it.

Unless she was mistaken or Biblos would not judge fair, she had not won the race, but she had not finished last either. She got free of that punishment.

"_On your feet!_", Lasarra heard a gruff voice, roaring livid, doubtlessly belonging to the Praetor. "**NOW, INITIATE! ON YOUR FEET!**"

Lasarra immediately started picking herself up, standing tall before Biblos, whom now stared her with raging looks.

"**YOU!**", Biblos said, mad. "_What have you done!?_"

"Praetor, I-", Lasarra started.

"**SILENCE!**", Biblos roared. "I cannot believe what I saw! Sixty sunturns of training! _Sixty sunturns for nothing!_"

Lasarra could see her victory wasn't a welcomed sight by the Praetor, whom was now pointing almost directly at her and shouting accusations.

"You have brought shame upon yourself!", Biblos said, threatning. "Shame upon yourself and those_ beside_ you! Have you any idea of the humiliation you cast down on all of us!? Have you any idea of the dishonor you brought!? _Losing to an Initiate!?_ How do you explain this, Anaris!?", he concluded, as he slowly pushed Lasarra aside, revealing the Zealot, who could barely stand.

"I faltered, Praetor.", Lasarra heard an answer behind her, she turning around to see the injured Zealot answering the Praetor's accusations. "I faltered at the final obstacle."

"_And you failed!_", Biblos shouted, furious, pushing Anaris back with such a violence that he fell to the ground. "Even when you could have concentrated and Charged, you have let her surpass you! One more tired and utilizing shackled balls could come ahead of one of the Proudest, and escape punishment _meant_ for her!"

The Initiate's eyes widened, noticing the Praetor was not even ashamed of admitting he wanted her to suffer twice what she had in the beginning, all for being an Initiate.

"And now, due to your faltering, I cannot do anything and thus will have to treat her with honor, even when she has claimed none!", Biblos shouted.

"Praetor, I-", the Zealot started, resigned and ashamed.

"**BE SILENT!**", Biblos roared, striking down Anaris with a punch, making him fall down. "This, Adept, is the type of weakness that cost the life of many warriors! This is the type of weakness that could bring the death of those around you! The hexagon vents were meant to test reflexes, reflexes that now I see you have not developed! If you expect to continue on active duty, you will eliminate this weakness of yours!"

Lasarra watched, with a mixed look of horror and fear, as the Adept was explicitly berated by the Praetor. The other warriors, however, looked at the scene and didn't seem not a bit disturbed. They could not. Not with softness and weakness one of their own, one whom earned his place, displayed before one whom was still to earn her own place.

"Not only this, Adept, but you shall _cleanse_ yourself of your shame, as well.", Biblos said, coldly. "You will spend the night in the containment chamber, after you have trained. You will pass the moonrise with the pain of your leg, for your carelessness, and your body, for the training as you struggle to remind who and what you are! May this be a reminder of your dishonor!"

With this, the Praetor turned to step back a bit as he then stopped and turned to face Lasarra.

"_And you._", Biblos started, coldly. "What have you to say?"

"Did you actually plan to have me train twice, even after _all_ you have made me pass through?", Lasarra asked, trying to contain herself, anguished.

"_I make the questions, Initiate._", Biblos exclaimed, rashly. "And yes, that was the intention. Your muscles are weak and your bones are fragile, clearly requiring strengthening that would only begin to bear fruit within two sunturns. The first day of an Initiate is supposed to be the worst conceived. And now, I cannot perform so, for you earned the right to train the same as the remainder. You have proved to be stronger."

Biblos, however, started walking closely to her. Lasarra's three hearts started beating faster again, with each step the Praetor approached the Initiate.

"Though such strength was not supposed to have appeared, even though you reached far the track.", Biblos said, coldly. "How do you explain what happened in the middle of the electric arcs?"

"I...", Lasarra started, hesitating. "I cannot explain properly, Praetor."

"Why? Are you afraid?", Biblos asked, bitterly. "Afraid that I will punish you? You were not supposed to be able to reinvigorate yourself through the Khala, yet I saw you have succeeded to! _How!?_"

"I...", Lasarra said, a bit frightened, thinking of Naviri, whom was somewhere, afraid of having to denounce her. "I have stolen, a few sunturns ago, a scroll containing some of the teachings. I could not understand at first, but... but I remember."

Biblos simply stared Lasarra for a moment, before he unleashed a blow on her belly. She yelped in pain.

"_Do not ever do that again, Initiate._", Biblos said, coldly. "There are many things a Zealot trains for, one of which is knowing when one is _lying_. Like you are doing now, with an _invented story!_ You do not look like a thief, you were not educated to be one, so you could not act like such."

Lasarra, recoiling in regret of her answer, resumed her straight posture.

"That leaves only one theory.", Biblos said. "Someone has told you such and showed you how. And this could only have come from one among us.", he added, before he turned around to face the warriors, in both lines.

"The responsible will have one chance!", Biblos exclaimed, staring at all warriors. "Unless he or she steps forward, I will have Lasarra point the culprit, under torture, if I have to! Therefore, he or she whom acts by the back of all, reveal yourself at once!"

However, all remained silent, simply staring at him. After a while, as he walked a bit forward and then a bit back, returning to Lasarra.

"Very well.", Biblos said, loudly. "Let it be warned, however, that what she suffers will be of _your_ fault!"

The Praetor then grabbed Lasarra by her nerve cords, starting to pull her around with him.

"It falls to you now, Initiate.", Biblos said, coldly. "The responsible will be revealed. Whether under few or much pain is only up to you. The more you defend, the more you shall hurt! _So, whom is it!?_"

Lasarra said nothing, only staring at the Praetor, whom forced his grip on her nerve cords, as she started looking at the warriors. Biblos pulled her harder as he approached his head to hers, staring at her with a menacing look.

"Do not force me to do this, Lasarra.", Biblos said, quietly, close to her. "I can and I_ will,_ if I have to! Now, whom was it that helped you!?"

Lasarra's eyes ran rapidly as she began to search the male and female warriors in her sight, all looking at her, like if they were threatening to do something to her, should she run her 'mouth' off.

"Talk, Initiate.", Biblos ordered, before, shortly after, he yanked her nerve cords again. "Talk, NOW!"

Lasarra still remained quiet, as her eyes could not find Naviri, though everyone was now staring at her. Behind her, a Psi-Blade sound was heard.

"You brought this upon yourself.", Biblos said, disgusted, as he prepared to strike.

"_Praetor!_"

The voice, out of a sudden, a female one that came behind, made so much Biblos turn around and deactivate his Psi Blade, as well as Lasarra, whom was free of the grip Biblos once had. There, both could see a single female Zealot stepped ahead, facing both.

"If you find somewhere to strike that Psi Blade, Praetor, then you need find no longer.", Naviri said, staring straight at the Praetor. Biblos in return, let off Lasarra and walked slowly forward.

"I would have expected this from my most undisciplined.", Biblos said, coldly. "But you, out of all!? _You were stronger than this!_"

"_As you were, Praetor!_", Naviri retorted. "But altering the hexagon pillars was too far!"

"It was never supposed to be fair for the Initiate, Naviri!", Biblos shouted, angry. "You should know this better than anyone!"

"Her current state is fragile!", Naviri replied, angry. "Her recovery, if she fell, would take an entire worldturn!"

"So you assume responsibility, Disciple?", Biblos asked.

"I do, Praetor.", Naviri said, coldly. "_With all due glad._"

"Then you know what comes as your 'reward'.", Biblos said, coldly too. "N'arkham shall be notified."

Lasarra slowly widened her eyes, realizing what would occur.

It'd be the same, if not worse, that she had come through.

"Teor, Semazen, take her away.", Biblos said, turning around.

"Praetor, I must intervene!", Lasarra exclaimed, alarmed, stepping forward.

"_This is not your decision, Initiate!_", Biblos retorted back.

"Lasarra, do not stand in the middle of this!", Naviri exclaimed. "I accept the punishment, Praetor."

"I cannot accept this!", Lasarra exclaimed, stepping forward.

"_You will, Initiate!_", Biblos ordered. "Unless you would like to savor the punishment reserved for her, you will accept this!"

Two of the warriors whom were on the line walked forward, preparing to escort Naviri to her fate. Naviri simply stared at the Initiate as she pleaded her, with her look, to not do anything. Lasarra, however, would have none of that, especially after helping her like she did.

"_Then I will accept the punishment!_", Lasarra exclaimed, in defiance.

Biblos then stared at the Initiate, walking slowly towards her.

"You accept?", Biblos said, bitter.

"Lasarra, no!", Naviri shouted.

"On one condition, Praetor.", Lasarra said, facing the Praetor. "I take Naviri's stead."

"And do you believe you can simply sacrifice yourself for her?", Biblos asked.

"You wanted to punish me, Praetor, succeeding in this track or not.", Lasarra said, coldly. "Even when I suffered enough in your hands, you want to punish me. So be it, then. I shall offer myself. But Naviri shall not pay the price."

Biblos and Lasarra simply stared at one another for a moment.

"So much loyalty...", Biblos wondered, coldly. "_Admirable_, Initiate. But, as I stated, this is not your decision! Now, return to your position! Teor, Semazen, take Disciple Naviri away!"

"She will stay, Preator.", a new voice ordered, from behind the warriors. Biblos turned around to see Executor Raseac and his aide, Centurion Ilmig, had entered the hall, staring at both. "And nothing shall occur to either the Initiate or the Disciple."

Biblos seemed quite livid with the decision, as Lasarra and Naviri were surprised. No one, or nothing would attract the Executor's attention to a warrior's training, unless it was something truly important.

"Executor!?", Biblos asked, furious. "_Do you realize what you are doing!?_"

"Only too well, Sargas.", Raseac answered. "And this is my order."

"_The law and rules sacred were just broken!_", Biblos protested. "As the Protoss dared interfere with the Kalathi, this Disciple dared to interfere with the learning course of the Initiate!"

"We know of this, Biblos.", Raseac said, apparently calm. "I could feel Lasarra's deep attunement with the Khala. One much powerful, even for the standards of Initiates or experienced warriors like yourself. It was what brought me, here."

"Then you know, as well as I do, the proper punishment must the applied!", Biblos exclaimed, angry.

"And Naviri would have attained it, until I have heard Lasarra's emphasized defense of the Disciple.", Raseac replied. "Even though it is the first day for her amongst the warrior caste, she has earned much."

"_For disobeying a rule strictly set!?_", Biblos asked, upset.

"For defending one whom otherwise did not need, nor want such defense.", Raseac said, firmly. "She was willing to pass through a pain worse than that of her initiation, all for the sake of one whom helped her. This is a clear and most powerful proof of loyalty ever conceived, Biblos. And thus, such loyalty must deserve the respect earned."

"What of the fact she reinvigorated herself through the Khala, Executor?", Biblos asked. "_Not only she violated a clear rule, but also broke a sacred tradition!_"

"The same was said of Tassadar, Biblos.", Raseac said. "He whom saved us all also broke a tradition, to never search for the Nerazim nor work alongside them to defeat the most dangerous threat our fallen homeworld has ever faced."

Raseac then turned, looking at all warriors.

"When Tassadar departed from Aiur, to rescue Zeratul and his Dark Templar on Char, he betrayed the law of the Khala, the edict of the Conclave and the trust of those whom would support him.", Raseac said, out loud. "For his deeds, he would be executed and his name ill spoken, and for all due reason. Only a few followed him, not for duty, but for belief that his work could save our people, what has clearly happened. Those few chose to _abandon_ their duty to the Judicators and thus follow one branded a traitor and heretic. Now, they are heroes revered, for their extraordinary search for the salvation of our people. Loyalty, warriors, is not only about being loyal to a government or your own species. It is not only about being loyal and obedient to those whom lead you. It is also about being loyal and faithful to one another. You all step into the same ground, speak the same tongue, you travel the same distance, you all, together, shed the same blood. If one falls in disgrace, we are all disgraced. If one finds glory in victory, the glory and the spoils must be shared. If one valiantly defends her comrade in arms, all must join together in support. As one footwear, we walk, as one Psi-Blade, we strike. It takes eons for many of you to understand, but true warriors, revealed and whatnot, readily understand what it is to be loyal. For she would not allow one like her to suffer an injustice so great, nor begrudge her comrade the fruits of a victory well earned, however small it is. And it is for this loyalty that Lasarra and Naviri shall, by my edict, the least expected of all, be left unharmed."

Raseac then turned back, looking at Naviri, Teor and Semazen, whom only stared at him.

"The three of you, return to your positions.", Raseac ordered. The trio then nodded and followed suit.

"And what of the Initiate, Executor?", Biblos asked, bitter. "How is her violation justified?"

"She had not finished as the very last, Biblos.", Raseac answered. "She had earned her place."

"_Even utilizing a means Initiates should not know yet?_", Biblos asked. "If they knew, otherwise, they would grow arrogant!"

"Lasarra.", Raseac called, and the Initiate looked at the Executor head-on. "Was this your first true experience with the empathic link?"

"It was, Executor.", Lasarra agreed, nodding.

"And before, when you had none, did you believe you could surpass this track?", Raseac asked.

"No, I did not.", Lasarra said, truthfully.

"And when you gained this chance, did you believe you could change something?", Raseac asked.

"I did not believe, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "All I desired was to finish the course, predicting all others had already passed. I did not expect for Adept Anaris' condition."

"And how you were when you received such power?", Raseac asked.

"Tired and in pain.", Lasarra answered, lowering her head. "I did not believe I would finish the course. When I reinvigorated, however, and felt my body return to it's willing self, it was like if a light had surged in the darkest clouds of a storm."

Raseac simply then looked at her with utmost respect.

"I do not believe this is any sign of arrogance, Praetor.", Raseac said. "Her mind is clear, her heart is true, her soul is in peace. And when you were on the verge of finishing the course, Initiate, did you want to utilize the Khala again?"

Lasarra hesitated a bit.

"I did not knew how to Charge, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "So I had to effort myself. But, even if I knew how, I felt that prevailing like this, as myself, without any power, at all, was more fair and satisfying."

"Satisfying for whom?", Raseac answered.

"For myself, Executor.", Lasarra said, plainly. "For I had put effort, not depended on anything else."

Raseac simply looked at Lasarra for a moment, before facing Biblos, whose face was one of dislike.

"She deserves this feat, Biblos.", Raseac concluded. "Allow her, so."

Biblos himself tightened his eyes in shame of the decision.

"And Anaris?", Biblos asked, all bitter. "_Is he to be spared, too?_"

Raseac simply looked at the fallen Zealot, still on the ground.

"Unfortunately, his punishment is welcome and necessary.", Raseac said. "His faltering can have deadly consequences, and has brought disgrace upon himself. You may do with him as it is required."

"Very well.", Biblos said, coldly, turning to the downed Adept. "Get on your feet, Adept, and enter formation."

Slow and painfully, with the limp on his leg, Anaris started to follow suit.

"In other matters, the settlement and the weather shield are soon to be established.", Raseac said to the Praetor. "Very soon, you will be able to descend and perform your duty. You may return to your duties now, Praetor. En Taro Adun."

Raseac turned around, as he then stopped when he started walking, turning to face Lasarra.

"As for you, Initiate, the moment you are finished with the training today, I would to speak to you, in my quarters.", Raseac said. "That is all."

Lasarra's eyes widened a bit, recalling the last time she had been to that place. Raseac then crossed the line of warrior's to the right as Biblos approached her, looking at the Initiate menacingly.

"Do not believe you shall escape from this unscathed, Initiate...", Biblos threatened. "Did I not inform you earlier concerning insolence?"

"You did, Preator.", Lasarra answered, a bit nervous. "But I did not expect for the Executor's interference in the matter."

With nothing but a grudging look, Biblos then stepped away from the Initiate.

"_Back to the War Chamber!_", Biblos ordered, as all warriors immediately started to disperse. Taking the opportunity, Lasarra tried to see on Naviri, but the Disciple did not care to look back at the Initiate. Perhaps she did not like the intervention or did not want to talk of it for a moment. Perhaps it was best if she would visit the Disciple afterwards.

However, she now got a bit more worried concerning Biblos. Such an interference with his intent to punish Naviri was something he clearly would not forget, and forgive even less. And it would all fall down on the Initiate, for her attempt in saving one whom helped see through the obstacle track. Though, too, the truth was that Naviri only suggested it. She could do naught but wonder whom it was that suggested her to concentrate and recite those words. The voice seemed firm, like a young one, and yet it was wise.

The questions were put aside as Lasarra now worried what would come next, on the War Chamber, as she stepped to one of the teleporter pads, especially concerning Biblos. Because nothing ended with pain, nor sorrow. None but that of the Zealot, Anaris, whom was duly sentenced by his failure. Another question came up on her mind, as she wondered how and where he could have injured his leg, for him to be limping.

So many questions. So many doubts.

But by the moment the teleport pad activated and transported her to the higher decks, there was nothing more to ask. There was no one to answer, down by the empty corridor track.

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK PEAKS, CHAR**

Her steps had been going too slow since what happened by the Evolution Pit. Each and every step was soft, but Kerrigan didn't actually mind if she were stepping on the flesh of the Leviathan or in the barren rock of that hellish world. Her mind had been busy, working as she tried to wonder how to better attack Harkonnen, if there was any chance, at all, of bettering the odds, with those defenses and the Xel'Naga artifact, that, no doubt, Warfield must have gotten warmed up and ready to fire the very moment she took a single step closer to the facility. But nothing had come up so far.

One thing that did not leave her mind, though, while she walked, was that plan that Za'gara conceived, to utilize a shape-shifter, a Changeling, as she called it, to distract Warfield and have him transport the Xel'Naga artifact, like if the Brood Mother was confident that Warfield would fall for that. Warfield simply wouldn't. At least, that's what Kerrigan presumed, even though everything could be done to give him a reason she were 'truly' there, like lifting off the Leviathan and departing in Warfield's plain sight, or having the Changeling act like if 'she' were controlling the Zerg. It was so obvious and so ludicrous, a plan too simple for a high-ranked General, servant of Mengsk, to fall to. And there was every factor that could make the plan go south. It didn't seem like if it were going to work, and yet... It was well planned, even for one whom barely was at her baby steps in strategy, like Za'gara was. Oh, well, Kerrigan was very much at that stage, too, not knowing how to command Zerg but a few days ago, when Izsha sent her to that place to 'train'.

The flesh door opened ahead of her as Kerrigan stepped into the Nerve Center, where Izsha was focused on the matter more than ever, on that Fortress from where those fighters duped her long enough for the Dominion to get what they wanted, the very information that Kerrigan was back and command the Zerg Rock 'N Roll once again. No doubt she must have been keeping an eye to see if there was a nuke launching or an alien energy gathering up, meaning Warfield was charging up the artifact. Kerrigan, personally, so much as every Zerg aboard and close to the Leviathan, hoped it wasn't the latter. At least the Zerg could escape a nuclear blast, with a lot of running and that small, usual spice of luck.

"Anything?", Kerrigan asked, as she approached the edge of the Leviathan's mouth.

"Nothing.", Izsha deadpanned. "Or he took the chance and loaded the artifact while you were briefing us on the damn thing, or he didn't at all..."

"Za'gara told me she was finished with recovering feral Zerg, before she paid me a visit.", Kerrigan commented. "How many?"

"Too few, if you ask me.", Izsha said. "Thirty-five thousand."

Kerrigan's eyebrows raised as she looked at the halfling.

"_You call that too few, Izsha?_", Kerrigan said.

"In Zerg numbers, yes.", Izsha said. "We think a medium force estimates half-a-million, at least."

"Still, it's good enough to sustain an attack on _Harkonnen_.", Kerrigan said, looking back at the fortress.

"Not in the way we're attacking.", Izsha said. "A single way in, capable of funneling our minions, a lot of air defenses with enough ammunition and rockets to take down a hundred Mutalisks, artillery and flamethrowers, the things Zerg hate the most... At least, if we could surround the fortress, we could have the Zerglings form climbing mounds, like in a very old movie I remember seeing. There was this bug species that couldn't get past the fences of the outpost, freaking thin, by the way, and the bugs, Arachnids, I recall, then decided to pile on one another to form a mound, in which others would use as access."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea.", Kerrigan said. "At least to get past the main gate."

"Wouldn't work either.", Izsha deadpanned. "All the Dominion has to do is blow up an artillery or bring in flamethrowers to roast the mound."

"Warfield wouldn't be that stupid to fire a round and risk damaging the gate.", Kerrigan commented.

"But the gate can resist some flames.", Izsha pointed out, ironically.

Kerrigan let out another sigh. "Damn...", she cursed. "And I'm out of ideas..."

"_And who isn't it?_", Izsha said.

"Only Za'gara got an idea, so far.", Kerrigan said. "I'm not sure it'll work, but I decided to ask your opinion."

"_The Brood Mother had an idea?_", Izsha scoffed, in mockery. "Frightens me more than a nuke..."

"Nah, I didn't it was that big of a thing, actually.", Kerrigan said. "Besides, it's just to move away the Xel'Naga artifact, not deal with the defenses. Warfield can easily hold while the thing comes back, if it works like she thinks it will."

"And what it is, out of curiosity?", Izsha asked. "She wants to sink the plateau, at the cost of Nydus Worms?"

"No, it's more about Changelings.", Kerrigan answered. "She wants one to pose like me while she first strikes the other fortress, on the other side of Char."

"A copy of you?", Izsha asked.

"She thinks it will distract Warfield and force him to move the artifact out.", Kerrigan answered. "I, personally, didn't buy it."

"Have you told her Warfield could easily notice?", Izsha asked, raising an 'eyebrow'.

"She thinks that, if we act right, even moving the Leviathan and such, he might fall.", Kerrigan replied. "Hardly a plan, huh?"

"A tad stupid, but lifting off isn't that a bad idea, either.", Izsha answered. "At least, if Warfield finds out, we can run."

"You mean you're gonna give that a shot?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Izsha. "I thought you said leaving was not an option."

"And I thought, when you said we should run, you meant out of Char, with Warfield still standing and strong. Well, there's not many ideas, so it doesn't hurt to try.", Izsha replied. "How big is risk?"

"She says it's minimal, but the return, if done right, is greater.", Kerrigan said. "She says it depends on the actions and timing. It's more of a theater play than a strategy."

"From what you learned, and this was transferred to me, too, part of the war is making your enemy do what you want him to do.", Izsha said. "Confuse him, making him think he's taking the right step, when he's actually slitting his throat."

"What, you became the military philosopher, now?", Kerrigan joked.

"Truth be told, this came to work when I picked you up on that dustball.", Izsha answered.

"What?", Kerrigan asked, her attention caught.

"You must have seen our Leviathan, right?", Izsha asked, raising an eyebrow. "At least, how it was hurt?"

"It was night time, Izsha, I could barely see any wounds, if there _were_ any.", Kerrigan deadpanned.

"Then let's try a different question.", Izsha said. "Before I picked you up, the Dominion knew where you were, right? Didn't you think it was a little bit strange, how no backup or air support to tear down that Dropship were showing up in time?"

That very question raised up a light on Kerrigan's mind.

"Yeah...", Kerrigan mumbled, impressed. "I even remember reading the mind of one of their Marines, complaining of the backup's delay to get to the platform..."

Kerrigan then stared at Izsha as she raised her eyebrows.

"_That was you!?_", Kerrigan asked, dumbstruck. "But how did you manage that, especially with the whole Dominion fleet on _Verhoeven_?"

"Well, those people wanted something to fire at.", Izsha answered, smiling. "So I gave them."

"What- _You engaged the entire Dominion fleet?_", Kerrigan asked, approaching her a little. "But how you're still alive, if you managed that?"

"You can thank luck and Mengsk's laxity on that.", Izsha said, looking at the Harkonnen fortress far ahead. "That imbecile had four years to prepare and expand his military, and yet he didn't do it. He didn't even get stronger weapons, on how pathetic the fighter and Battlecruiser shots were. The only ones that did something were the Yamato Cannons."

"You're outright insane, I'll give you that.", Kerrigan said. "Never thought all Mengsk had to do was to fire a nuke or something?"

"Well, here's the catch: He didn't bring _any_ nuke along.", Izsha commented.

"So that was his screw-up?", Kerrigan asked.

"Don't blame him, little girl.", Izsha said, letting out a chuckle. "He and the rest of the fleet came to Phaeton knowing they'd only face a band of pirates and the security of the research lab. We only made a surprise, showing up and then showing off..."

That talk, however, also brought up a question on Kerrigan's mind, one that had to be already answered.

"Wait a minute, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, dead serious, staring at the halfling. "So, if you engaged the Dominion fleet... Why didn't you take the shot and killed Mengsk?"

"I was wondering when you'd make that question.", Izsha said. "Well, I was more concerned with you, and for that I needed the Dominion off my tail."

"Yeah, but if you killed Mengsk, the Dominion would be in deep now!", Kerrigan exclaimed, crossing her arms. "Never thought that?"

"Well, there was a little bit of a 'fun' factor in this.", Izsha said. "I wanted to see him rage mad at how close he was to get you and couldn't make it."

"_You like toying with people, don't you?_", Kerrigan asked, disgusted.

"Hey, haven't had fun in the last four years, I kind of _deserved_ that...", Izsha said, sounding cynical.

"And you wouldn't have needed to get me, too.", Kerrigan said.

"Hey, I needed you, Kerrigan, because of the Brood Mothers, remember?", Izsha asked, deadpan.

"Maybe I would've helped you, if you did the favor of ending that son of a bitch...", Kerrigan said, all bitter.

"_Kerrigan, you really think I'm an idiot?_", Izsha asked, sarcastically. "I was very well aware there was no way in hell you'd join us willfully. Besides, killing Mengsk and not having anything to steer you into? That wouldn't be much of a puppeteering plan..."

"You're saying you're counting on my anger on Mengsk for your purposes?", Kerrigan asked, starting to get angry.

"Kerrigan, don't play the Saint, you fit every role in the Row but that one.", Izsha said, serious, staring at the Puppet Queen. "Yes, your wanting to get payback on the Emperor is what I counted on the most. Isn't that why I offered you this chance, in the first place?"

"Y'know what, you just made me feel like a _plaything_, toying with my feelings like that!", Kerrigan exclaimed.

"You_ agreed_ to be a puppet, remember?", Izsha asked. "Being toyed with is part of the job, and quite_ mandatory!_"

Kerrigan and Izsha simply stared into one another, for a moment.

"And Jim?", Kerrigan asked. "I suppose you wanted to get him, too."

"Well, I needed a bargaining chip, something to keep you in check.", Izsha answered, coldly. "Too bad that's not possible, but, hey, his death worked just_ fine_ too, don't you think?"

Kerrigan clenched her fists in anger, not believing Izsha would simply talk of her dead lover that way, seeing like if she just didn't care, at all. She'd kill her, were not for the fact Izsha was Zerg and that her infestation probably had something to do with her issues.

"I think it's better we stop it right here.", Kerrigan said, coldly, trying to control herself.

"_If you want it..._", Izsha said, frowning. "Anyways, getting back in the track, the war business is much of physical issue as it's psychological. It can have an effect that seem stupid, at first, but that delivers something you'd never expect, in normal circumstances. So, this 'theater play', if it's done right, it can help us a little bit."

"But you really don't believe Warfield would just fall, do you?", Kerrigan asked, coldly.

"I don't, but you can't always know...", Izsha answered, contemplative. "If he can fall for it, who are we to complain, later? Though, if this works, you know you'll have to thank Za'gara later..."

"_The thing I want the less..._", Kerrigan said, in regret. "Thanking a monster hag that tried to kill me not a few days ago."

"Life is a bitch, Kerrigan.", Izsha deadpanned.

"_Like I was?_", Kerrigan said, sounding too ironic.

"I don't know, you tell me...", Izsha replied, frowning. "But have a little hope, at least. You get too realistic and things are sure to never happen."

"That plan will just the move the artifact out only, if it works, and we wouldn't have much time to get past Warfield's defense.", Kerrigan said, a bit sad, letting out a sigh. "Never thought planning for something like this would be a living hell..."

"Well, think of this as a school evaluation.", Izsha said. "You studied a bit, but the teacher's got you by playing unfair."

"And is anything fair on this freaking universe?", Kerrigan asked, walking forward, stepping into the rough, hot rock ground.

"Not much, I'm afraid.", Izsha said. Kerrigan, as she stepped forward, heard then a sound of rocks collapsing. She turned around to see something she never thought she'd see. She's seen Vipers pulling out rocks far and away from a section of the mountain, like cranes with loose mouths, pulling some of the boulders as smaller rocks and rubble rolled down.

"What are you doing?", Kerrigan asked, curious.

"Making an escape tunnel.", Izsha answered. "Like a condom, it's better to have it and not needing to use it than the other way around."

"Your Nydus Worms can't do practically the same?", Kerrigan asked.

"They're all busy digging to the other side of the world.", Izsha replied. "The positioning of the Terrans on the other side has given me an advantage."

"Why's that?", Kerrigan asked.

"They chose to pick up the worst of all places to stick a flag.", Izsha said, letting out a chuckle. "The Dead End Mountains. That thing was a volcano in the past, but the rocks collapsed and made it a 'safe' hole to travel inside. The people in there think they're safe, because there's not much space to maneuver in the air and the only entrance is a steep walk into the mountains, up and down. Of course, whoever's leading is not accounting for the possibility that we could dig new attack routes."

"_Across an entire planet?_", Kerrigan asked, amazed. "Don't these worms have a length limit?"

"Well, one stop here to set a Canal, another there, details.", Izsha said.

"Figures.", Kerrigan said. "So you're going with that plan?"

"We're gonna have to strike at the other fortress, one way or another.", Izsha said. "I'm just taking the opportunity while the moons let us."

The Puppet Queen only let out a sigh.

"I don't like this, Izsha...", Kerrigan said, a bit worried. "Funneled in, only a small time left if Warfield gets distracted, the amount of artillery, nuclear ordinance... I don't think that thirty-five thousand or more will be enough."

"It's not about 'thinking they'll be enough', Kerrigan.", Izsha said. "They _have_ to be. Unless a miracle or a better idea shows up..."

Kerrigan simply stepped forward, looking at the facility as she tried to think something concerning the battle ahead. The problem was just the idea was simply impossible to come up, given how well Warfield set up his defense. It kind of reminded on how Raynor could easily command the battles and problems ahead of him, though it was never known if he had command experience. Still, the battle of Antiga was an example of how easily he could lead his men, even better than what Kerrigan could lead a team of Ghosts, when she served the Confederacy, and not fighting against it with Raynor and Arcturus Mengsk, once one she could believe, now a backstabber, a murderer, war criminal and a tyrant.

Those were the good times, back then, when missions at least weren't that impossible than what with the fortress in her plain sight. Where a flaw could be explored, like it was on Antiga. She reminded something she didn't want to, because it reminded her enemy as well, as both discussed the recon Kerrigan did earlier, hours prior to her meeting Raynor, in the briefing room of the secret installation the Sons of Korhal used in their struggle against the tyrannical rule of the Old Families.

* * *

_The briefing room was quite dark, as to direct the view to the monitor holding the photographs, orbital views that the Hyperion, orbiting one of the two moons to avoid interception, had taken for the mission. Photographs of the primary Command Center the Confederate Alpha Squadron, under Edmund Duke's grip, stationed with the main Confederate officer to keep a leash on the Antigan people, whom were sparked and ready to revolt, bolstering Mengsk's numbers, especially at the eve of the Zerg invasions to the Fringe Worlds. The Command Center stationed on a large military base in a plateau, that contained a good number of gun enplacements and combat walkers, making a direct assault a hard option for the revolutionaries and impossible for those whom revolted outside the perimeter._

_However, so much the local militia, forgotten like those in Mar and Chau Sara, as well as the local populace were fed up with Confederate rule, even now that the tales had spread out of the alien invasions and the massive loss of life, and the Confederacy's willingness to ignore the dangers and lockdown entire worlds. All they needed was a reason and a chance to fight, and the Sons of Korhal would soon give it to them. All there'd be needed was a single shot. A shot from a Ghost, whom would easily infiltrate the Command Center. The Confederates were clearly sloppy in the matter, believing infiltration attempts would not be possible. The very installation lacked surveillance systems, thermal-sensitive systems, motion trackers, the very works even the least sensitive Confederate installations had._

_Kerrigan, who back then stood with her white environment suit and her lush, fiery red hair, looked at the screen and the information besides Mengsk. The revolutionary whom she once believed, but that would soon play his hand on Tarsonis._

_"Another day, another stronghold...", Kerrigan commented, letting out a sigh._

_"Unlike the others, Lieutenant, this one is quite easy.", Mengsk replied. "I'd actually call it a walk in a park."_

_"You're sure they'll rise up the moment the bullet hits the officer's skull?", Kerrigan asked._

_"They have had enough with the Confederate goons, as they graciously said themselves.", Mengsk said, smirking his arrogant smirk. One Kerrigan got used to, so much she being briefed with him as with Confederate officers. "Trust me, Lieutenant, as you had before. This will work."_

_"What of that Captain you told me, Arcturus?", Kerrigan asked. "Jim..."_

_"Raynor?", Mengsk asked. "Yes, he will meet you and will escort you to the perimeter."_

_"I didn't need protection before, Arcturus.", Kerrigan deadpanned. "Besides, that escort might call attention."_

_"I need Raynor and his ex-Magistrate friend leading those men and having their baptism in command.", Mengsk said. "Besides, think of him as a contingency plan for any unwelcome surprises you might face on your way."_

_"And the officer?", Kerrigan asked. "He'll be there?"_

_"My informants confirm it, and I trust them. They haven't failed on me, before.", Mengsk answered, perhaps too confident, something that just didn't fit him too much, even for the Ghost. "He'll be sitting all tranquil, arrogant and lazy like a king in his castle, unaware of what it's coming to him. Something curious, in itself..."_

_"What, the officer being there?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Mengsk, dumbfounded._

_"Castles, Kerrigan.", Mengsk answered. "How imposing they are, their importance, and how easily they can fall, if exploited right."_

_"Well, this is just putting someone with a cloak inside.", Kerrigan said, gesturing at the monitor screen with the photograph._

_"True, but I'm more interested in the ancient ones, in their history.", Mengsk said. "Of the battles that occurred in such places, on old Earth. Of course, back then, infiltration was not very popular as it is now, leaving only the mass assault and the aid of siege engines to breach the walls and towers of such castles."_

_"Siege engines?", Kerrigan asked. Mengsk only let out a chuckle._

_"Forgive me, Lieutenant.", Mengsk said. "Many times, I forget that you did not have an education in History, a courtesy of your former benefactors. What you must know, however, is that the Arclite Tank wasn't merely called Siege Tank because the name was pretty or it's ability to change from a tank into an artillery battery. Many say that the siege engines were all invented on the medieval age of Earth, but it's incorrect. It was on the medieval ages that the siege weapons became popular the most, amongst the common folk. The first to ever conceive the idea of siege engines were the Assyrians and the battering rams, then the Greeks with the catapults. Machinery, though primitive, but the first machinery to be purely conceived with the intent of waging war. Before then, many thought that cities and fortresses were impregnable, unless the way was open from within. Though, my most favourite, and the most historical one, in medieval terms, was the trebuchet."_

_"The what?", Kerrigan asked, not understanding the name._

_"Trebuchet, Kerrigan.", Mengsk answered. "A machine meant for long range artillery. The very first of it's kind, before the gunpowder fever came. A machine meant to sling it's payload atop the walls and buildings of cities or fortresses, or even castles. With a good number, you could surpress the defense of the walls for days, until the wall collapsed. If, however, you wanted to hit above or beyond the wall, all you had to was adjust the aim. However, given that age was not so advanced, it had to be dismounted and packed before it could move, unlike the mobile artillery, like catapults and onagers, whom could be moved somewhere, but did not have the same accuracy, range or firepower the trebuchet had. This siege engine truly deserved it's mark in the history of warfare, Lieutenant. And it was the very inspiration of the one whom idealized the Siege Tank in the Guild Wars. Although, while it took an entire day to mount such a machine, our tank can become a cannon in at least five seconds."_

_Kerrigan simply stood there, listening to Arcturus Mengsk's apparently expert knowledge, seeming so small in knowledge, compared to the erudite leader of the Korhalian revolution. "Impressive...", it was all she muttered._

_"I know, Kerrigan.", Mengsk said. "You should read a little concerning history, it was it's fair share of impressive feats and facts, although it also has it's share of horror."_

* * *

That, in the end, ended up as something Kerrigan came to read about, out of her own volition, something she couldn't as an assassin for the Confederacy. By then, all she could read were military reports and files, all with information strictly controlled by the program. One of the few things she could do, free from control of anyone. For that brief moment, she felt free.

From what she read then, very curious by then what a trebuchet was like, she's seen an image that she considered to be the most messed-up machine she had seen yet, and it wasn't even metal. It was like a stationary launching machine, with a large and long wooden base below, the very front serving as the base of the weapon, with a stair close by. The base of the weapon was quasi triangular, holding what seemed to be the arm of the weapon. On one of the extremities, stood a large and seemingly heavy crate, filled with weight. On another, lied a nearly open pouch held by two strings, which, Kerrigan was insulted to know, served as the hold of the ammunition, that were either rocks or metal, incendiary and whatnot. After that, Kerrigan never complained of cannons ever again. And, given how large was the siege engine, she wondered how was the life of the poor person or persons assigned to unpack and assemble these the whole day, as well as the other way around.

She simply remained there, regretting the memories of the one she hated the most now, as she looked at the Terran fortress ahead of her. Another sound of falling rocks was heard as boulders more heavy were pulled by the tongues of the Vipers, rolling down the hill and nearly crushing a Zergling or two, whom, angry, roared at the creatures above, like if they were common people shouting a '_Hey, watch it!_'. Kerrigan turned around for a moment to see progress on the work, that involved a new cavern hole opening, as Drones within no doubt used their claws, meant to pierce through thick minerals, to excavate the tunnel. So far it had been going well, apparently. She's seen then a Viper pick up one of the boulders and savagely sling it away before she returned her sight to the fortress, to continue thinking, after that brief cooling of mind. Still, no matter the effort, now the damn medieval siege engines couldn't leave her mind anymore. She silently cursed herself, as she looked at that futuristic simulacrum of a castle. Funny how it now sounded, especially that horrendous thing in the horizon, covered by walls and such, just like a castle.

It took a while before Kerrigan then looked at the fortress again and then at the Vipers, reminding the irony of it. She looked at both again, suspicious this time, because now it seemed something brewed on her mind. Too ridiculous to sound, yet too strong for her to forget. She could see the Vipers had tongues and flew along, like the cables to those pouches the siege engines used. But, unlike the weapons, the creatures could control their tongues, letting out when they wanted. They also apparently could see, though they had no eyes with them, meaning they could aim better. Aim... Just like Mengsk told her...

'_If, however, you wanted to hit above or beyond the wall, all you had to was adjust the aim._'

She then looked back at the walls of _Harkonnen_, walls meant to contain the Zerg movements as well as shield the Dominion soldiers from Zerg ranged assaults, so much in vision as with the thick Neosteel they bore. She could see some of the artillery platforms, the Bombard Turrets, above those walls, to allow a better diameter of firing. They were exposed more, thinking they would be shielded so much in ground as in the air, with the base turrets protecting them with their fragmentation cannons. Only ranged Zerg could reach those, and this would take massive losses and time.

Unless...

'_However, given that age was not so advanced, it had to be dismounted and packed before it could move, unlike the mobile artillery, like catapults and onagers, whom could be moved somewhere, but did not have the same accuracy, range or firepower the trebuchet had_.'

'_Accuracy... Range... Firepower..._'

Kerrigan then looked at the Vipers behind, seeing a potential she didn't fathom until now. If the Vipers could see, they could aim. If they could aim with accuracy, then the strength to launch, if made stronger, could make them cover a distance. A distance safe from the range of anti-aerial defenses. And those were exposed, and walls were irrelevant to this.

Then she saw the mobility of the Viper. The tongue already provided an answer as well as the quick thought brewing on the Puppet Queen's mind. The Viper could fly, but, unlike the machine, so much as the Siege Tank, it didn't need to unpack, at all. If trouble came in brewing, it could easily turn tail and run off!

She then looked back to the very Terran fortress, those walls, those defenses, whom could reach far, but not far enough. Even to something that could strike longer than those, hopefully longer than that of the Bombard Turrets... She then reminded, again, that Vipers flied, so they could aim overhead, not only over the walls, but also what was amidst the rows... Where the other artillery, the Siege Tanks, would be... Not only those, but the trooper divisions that could welcome the ground visitors, should the front gate fall...

'_Accuracy... Range... Firepower..._'

Firepower... Kerrigan wondered what she could do concerning that. That was a problem. What could be more powerful and destructive, especially to make an artillery.

The moment she turned around to see the Vipers again, she noticed a green mass crawling slowly, trying to come uphill to circle the Leviathan's head to the other side. A Baneling. The sight, that took two seconds, was enough to recall the memories of that battle in the cave. The main distraction that was the battle, where the Baneling exploded. Then those others, whom busted the defenses on one of the clearings containing a major egg cluster and the land bridge leading to Za'gara's Hive Cluster.

The power of Zerg concentrated acid, that could corrode even the strongest of neosteel, if she remembered right. _Firepower._

She took a final look in the Vipers so much as the Terran fortress ahead. Now she could see it! She could see the bombardment clearing those defenses, putting a fair fight to an invasion! She could see the metal corroded with the acid as Banelings rained down the sky, blasting everything upon impact and coating on their acid, not just damaging opponents but instilling terror, from both the unknown of the new weapon as well as the moral effect of the acid splashing around, making armor technically useless!

However, as she looked at the fortress, she also, unfortunately, had seen a patrol of three Vikings patrolling. Something she didn't account for. Warfield had a strong air force, ready to react. Even more with the aid of those damn base turrets and other anti-aerial defenses, the moment the aerial Zerg got in range.

'_Range..._'

That word boomed a bit in Kerrigan's head, before she then understood a bit. If it were out of range of the Bombard Turrets, so it'd be far away from other turrets as well. So far that Warfield would have to send the air force away from the cover. And, with the numbers of Zerg minions, the air force's numbers would clash with the flying minions... A perfect cover! Perfect so much in air as in ground! Only one way in, only one out! Where the ground forces, that Warfield would send to provide anti-air, would clash with the attacking Zerg!

A light brew on Kerrigan's mind, and it only grew stronger and stronger. Her mind was clear, then. Her thought, resolute. A vision in sight.

She had found a solution.

She then turned around, starting to walk slowly two steps and then walk faster and faster until she ran, past Izsha, whom was caught by surprise at the Puppet Queen's rush.

"_Whoa!_", Izsha snapped, surprised. "_Where's the fire, little girl?"_

Kerrigan did not answer, however, as the flesh doors to the innards of the Leviathan, where she ran inside and deep.

"Where are you going!?", Izsha asked, not understanding, connecting herself, then, to the eyes of the Leviathan as Kerrigan ran as fast as she could across the corridors. Corridors Izsha was familiar with. Those led to the Evolution Pit. Noticing Kerrigan discovered something, Izsha immediately recoiled herself back to the hole where she hanged from, starting her peristaltic travel, through the open ways where she could connect to all the chambers of the beast, to the Evolution Pit.

The running took as long as she could remember, but she didn't care. The very energy of the idea gave her the strength to run to the Evolution Pit, where she could talk to Abathur concerning the solution. There was no tire, because of the evolution Abathur gave her prior to the battle with Za'gara. By the time she arrived at the Evolution Pit, the flesh doors opened and she rushed in, meeting Abathur and Za'gara, whom was still there.

"_Abathur!_", Kerrigan called, sounding urgent.

"My Queen.", Abathur replied. "Your cardiac acceleration suggests-"

"Abathur, answer me something.", Kerrigan interrupted. "You can modify Zerg strains, can't you? _Can't you!?_"

"Affirmative.", Abathur answered, coldly.

"I want you to do something to the Viper.", Kerrigan replied. "Put a big modification on it."

"The Viper strain, my Queen?", Abathur asked.

"_Did I just hear that right?_", Kerrigan heard a voice to her right, as Izsha came out of the flesh hole, dumbfounded and surprised. "Why the hell would you want to mess with my Vipers?"

"I found a solution, Izsha.", Kerrigan answered, anxious. "Something to help us in the assault."

"What, this out of nowhere?", Izsha asked, not understanding.

"Abathur, I need you to give those Vipers some good strength and aim.", Kerrigan said. "So they can throw stuff at the stronghold."

"_Throw stuff, my Queen?_", Za'gara asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, Za'gara throw stuff at them, like those old medieval weapons.", Kerrigan answered. Za'gara simply looked at her, not understanding, at all. "Y'know, like the catapult or that other thing, the... The..."

"Trebuchet?", Izsha asked, trying an answer.

"_Yeah, that one!_", Kerrigan readily replied. "Can you do it, Abathur?"

"But why would you want to turn the Viper into a...", Izsha started, before she silenced herself, her eyes widening, suddenly understanding. "_You idiot!_"

"_What!?_", Kerrigan asked, suddenly, widening her eyes, shocked. "But I just-"

"_Not you, Kerrigan, me!_", Izsha interrupted, angry at herself. "Of course, it was _right_ on our faces! And we didn't want to see it!"

"See _what_, Izsha?", Za'gara asked, dumbstruck, not understanding the scene.

"_The solution, dammit!_", Izsha retorted, smiling, her eyes shining. "Aerial artillery... And I readily took that off the list because we didn't have any Brood Lords!"

"But we didn't need them, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, excited. "All we needed was to find an alternative."

"Forgive my interruption, my Queen, but may I inquire what are you both talking of!?", Za'gara interrupted, having had enough, doubt driving Za'gara to a particular edge. "What sort of solution is this? _And what is this 'Trebuchet' you continuously speak of!?_"

"A very old weapon, Za'gara, that we Terrans made up, in a forgotten time.", Izsha answered. "Before we got to this Sector, hell, before we _even_ left the Earth, in very old times, we fought one another, in castles and cities. Many thought these places were safe, until the idea for an artillery machine came in. The first true artillery. This machine, the trebuchet, stuck a projectile in a cable, that were to be launched when the weight on the other side fell down. The cable swinged itself and unleashed the projectile, that flew fast and at longer distances to hit it's target. But it was very large and very messy to set one up at the time."

"But we don't need any of that Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "If we give enough strength and a sense of precision to the Vipers, we can have them throw the load even better and faster than the wooden artillery. And at a distance safe from the Bombard Turrets, and thus of the base turrets. And, since they're airborne, there won't be a problem of picking targets or moving, if things get dicey."

"But what we'll throw?", Izsha asked.

"Banelings.", Kerrigan readily answered.

"_Banelings?_", Izsha asked, a bit confused. "Isn't it better... _Of course!_ If you can't get them there, and the Terrans won't let because they fear that acid, _throw_ them! Of how fast and flying the Banelings would be, the Dominion couldn't get them in time!"

"Exactly.", Kerrigan said. "And when they hit, because of the speed and sudden impact, they explode. Just like..."

"Artillery.", Izsha concluded, smiling. "Basic physics. And Warfield definitely won't see that one coming."

"He'll see, but he just won't believe we found something to bust him open.", Kerrigan said.

"But, my Queen, and what of the Terran anti-aerial defenses?", Za'gara asked.

"They'll be out of range, Za'gara.", Kerrigan answered. "And they cannot move more closer to hit at the Vipers."

"But what of the Terran flyers, then, my Queen?", Za'gara said. "These _can_ approach our Vipers and neutralize them."

Izsha, then, lost her smile. "Yeah...", she said, in sudden disbelief. "She's right, Warfield can intercept them. And we can't fight them."

"We couldn't, if our flyers were to be in range of the ground anti-aerial defenses.", Kerrigan said, trying to reassure Izsha. "But the Vipers would be far out of range of these defenses. And if they're out of range and the Dominion can't fight back from the ground..."

"Warfield will only have two choices.", Izsha finished, the light returning. "Either he takes the bombardment or he'll have to move his air force far from safety."

"Where we _can_ fight them.", Kerrigan concluded. Both stared at one another for a time, a common agreement relevant between both, their spirits higher than ever.

"Abathur, you heard Kerrigan's request.", Izsha said. "Do it. I'll get the Vipers back and starting making the Banelings."

"Za'gara, help her out with that.", Kerrigan ordered the Brood Mother, turning back to leave. "We're going to need all Banelings we can get."

"But what of the Xel'Naga artifact, my Queen?", Za'gara asked. Both Kerrigan and Izsha stopped, then. "Even if the Terran ground defenses cannot reach, nor the Terran flyers can retaliate them, the artifact can still save the fortress."

Kerrigan and Izsha simply stared at one another, for a moment. The artifact, something they forgot to consider. The power of the artifact was enough to counter any potential attack. There was still this problem to consider.

Or not.

Kerrigan then approached Za'gara, her head straight.

"That plan of yours, about utilizing the Changelings...", Kerrigan started. "If it's done right, can it deliver?"

"But I believed that you have not accepted this plan, my Queen.", Za'gara said.

"_Just answer my question._", Kerrigan said. "If done right, can it do what you say it will do? Can it move the Xel'Naga artifact away, for a while?"

Za'gara simply looked at Kerrigan, briefly, afraid of the answer and how it'd provoke the reaction on the Puppet Queen.

"It is possible, my Queen.", Za'gara answered, resigned.

Kerrigan then nodded and turned to Izsha.

"Izsha, can you set a meeting, later, when Abathur's done with his work?", Kerrigan asked.

"What is it, Kerrigan?", Izsha asked.

"I think I have a plan brewing up...", Kerrigan said, confident.

Izsha could feel that confidence.

"Abathur, you have one hour.", Izsha said. "Start now. You too, Za'gara."

"I'll help out.", Kerrigan said, flexing her shoulders and her neck, turning to leave the Evolution Pit. Izsha retracted back to the hole she came from. Abathur then picked up his web to start his work and accomplish Izsha and Kerrigan's requests.

Za'gara simply stood there, dumbstruck at the scene that now unfolded, almost unable to assimilate what she had witnessed. An idea that originated from something Za'gara practically knew nothing and now her Queen, whom once refused an idea, now was willing to attempt it.

"_Terrans..._", Za'gara murmured, frustrated. "So chaotic, so confusing. _A race one can never understand..._"

"Agreed.", Abathur answered, deadpan.

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - _HARKONNEN_  
DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**

"_He's refusing to answer!?_"

A question every one in the courtyard could hear a furious Horace Warfield shout, as he kept a keen eye on the commotion of the _Harkonnen_ stronghold, where preparations were being made for an attack that could come at any moment. Shouting and frantic orders for haste and decent work, all at once, were high in the air. The news were spread amongst those in the facility. The Queen Bitch of the Universe, like a boxer whom just got hit by a heavy-weight champion and rested for a while, was back for a second round. A second round where she'd no doubt hit hard. There were those whom felt the despair and paranoia reeking in the stronghold were quite unhealthy. After all, they still had the artifact, and it punched Kerrigan hard. So why would she try again, knowing that wave after wave would be repelled not just by the artifact, but by the guns of the fortress that Warfield properly prepared, with the time he had? Even so, those who fought in the Brood War knew better what Kerrigan could do, concerning getting back up. Such happened when the Overmind was tamed by the UED expedition and their use of the Psi-Disrupter. Still, despite the fact she was on the verge of losing, she got up and turned the tables. So she could, even if all were going well, as those fools presumed.

Marines, Marauders, Firebats, Reapers and many others on foot ran, running endless drills and taking battle stations on the walls and bunkers and other emplacements. Ammunition, in crates and cargo trucks, circled to stockpile in the stations to allow a fast reload when ammunition were empty. Drills for emergency scrambles were underway on the hangars and pads housing the aircraft of the facility. Such similar drills occurred on the launch silos were the nuclear missiles were now in stand-by. Every sort of simulation was now running in the P.O.C., under every possible scenario, for a rapid threat assessment. Every corner of the _Harkonnen_ stronghold that could be searched was now under a double-check lookout, for the case of Zerg parasites or anything else were spying on the fortress, on the hopes a weakness could be found. The Hercules transports landed were on hot stand-by and being checked twice, in preparation for a possible evacuation scenario. Minefields on crucial sections and the land access before the frontal gate were being checked time and again. Positions for optimal shots were being set for the artillery, to fire a continuous and strong barrage. Vectors for aircraft to fly into and flank the main attack force were now being considered.

The message was a clear one. _Si vis pacem, para bellum._ If you want peace, get ready for war. In that case, it was more about the lives of those men and women whom now stood atop the Dauntless Plateau, rather than peace.

In the middle, coordinating everything or almost, was the tired old General that hardly believed that, in the event of such an urgent time, there were people not willing to communicate. Even when it was truly important, and that Prescott Maddox would definitely understand. But the last conversations seemed to have proven something otherwise, Maddox' view of the Xel'Naga artifact being moved away from Char being the most adamant of all.

"We're trying to send the damn message time and again, General.", McGrudd replied, from the radio. "Even with the damn video annexed, he just won't get it! _It's like we're dealing with a spoiled child, here!_"

"_Keep on trying, dammit!_", Warfield ordered. "Threaten the son of a bitch with firing a nuke the next time he bounces off, if you have to, just make sure he gets to see Kerrigan!"

"We're doing it, sir.", McGrudd said. "Can't we send in a transport with someone to carry the freaking message and shove it on his face?"

"Son of a bitch may order his men to shoot down the transport, for all I know...", Warfield said, frustrated, letting out a sigh. "He wants that thing out of Char, no questions asked! _And right at the worst hour!_ And he'll nuke us, that's what's the greater bitch!"

"He'd really do that, General?", McGrudd asked, nervous. "Light up the defenses and be responsible for Kerrigan's return?"

"By the time Mengsk realizes, it'll be too late.", Warfield said, closing his eyes. "What of the drills, how they're going?"

"Stress is high in here, sir.", McGrudd said. "People are already on the edge with so much pressure, almost breaking."

"They better not, Duncan, it's with Kerrigan we're gonna deal with.", Warfield warned. "Hammer it on their heads, make them get the idea anything can come down us, even if it's harmless, if they think so. I won't be caught with my pants down, and I'll tuck everyone's belts tight to make damn sure of that!"

"Doing now, Horace.", McGrudd said. "Hope it takes some time before she tries that, it's just stupid, she knows we have the artifact."

"It'll be more on desperation, Duncan.", Warfield replied. "That might gives a little favor in the odds. Now get to work."

"Aye, sir.", McGrudd answered.

"And McGrudd, make sure to have everything refitted, especially Vikings with the afterburners.", Warfield ordered. "Have the Warhounds ready, too."

"On it.", McGrudd answered, as the intercom went off. Warfield let out another heavy breath, as he looked forward, his war face looking old, though fierce on the mountains where the beast now rested.

Where she rested, like a snake ready to give the bite, just awaiting the least expected of hours. Where she would strike with fire and fury, that was a certainty concerning the Queen of the Swarm. All that mattered was when. Or where, considering she could also strike at _Doom Hammer_. At least that'd give that imbecile General Maddox a lesson in listening. But Kerrigan wasn't one to run away from a fight, even though this one was practically impossible to win.

"I'm here, Kerrigan...", Warfield muttered, cold and bitter. "I'm just waiting... _Your move._"

* * *

**COMMANDER'S QUARTERS - BATTLECRUISER '_AGAMMENON_'**

The private quarters of the Captain of the Dominion Battlecruiser _Agammenon_, Mitchell DeForrest, seemed like a one more fit for a Captain. The quarters seemed rather more clean and shining than the rest, despite the fact it was metal in ceiling, wall and floor. Decorations of eagle heads, pretty much like the wolf heads of Mengsk's White Star, lied on the corners of the wall as well as the flag of the Dominion, hanging behind the chair and his desk, where small glass of water rested, as well as the files of the day, a book copy of Moby Dick and a small globe decoration, the planet being Korhal IV, the very throne of the Dominion. Below the flag, the viewing window where DeForrest could look in the space beyond. The bed and wardrobe were strictly clean, polished and organized in the most metric military style possible. On one of the walls, a painting hanged in the wall, of the battle of Tarsonis, the bloodiest day conceived in the history of Man in the Koprulu Sector.

However, DeForrest was not alone on his quarters, by then. A surprise visit, in the form of the Captain of the _Vengeance_, Lilith Daniels, and her aide Feud Thorne, was now in his office. DeForrest, himself, was intrigued by Lilith's wish to talk to him in person. Of course, the supposed second nature was immediately put down when Thorne was at her side, making it an important visit.

"I must confess, Captain Daniels, this visit was quite a surprise.", DeForrest said, sitting on his chair as both the visitors took their respective seats. "Though I don't think it mustn't have been for something casual, I suspect."

"We'd like to talk something concerning one of your crewmembers, Captain DeForrest.", Lilith replied. "Get to know one or thing or two about her."

"Keitel, isn't it?", DeForrest asked, presuming. "I thought that issue was dealt with since the meeting on the bridge."

"Not entirely, I'm afraid, Captain.", Thorne said. "Indeed, it's much low, now, but it can escalate. We'd like to have something in line, in that case."

DeForrest frowned. "Well, if you think that's the best...", DeForrest muttered. "Fire away, then."

"What do you know about her?", Lilith asked. "Both person and soldier?"

"As soldier, not the traditional officer crap, she's one of the best in her job.", DeForrest said. "One of the best in the Valkyrie pilot business, coming from previous service. She was one of the UED expedition, four years ago. Prisoner of war, got turned to our side, the works. Doesn't falter on the job, gets it done and has the kinks for teamwork. As person, however... She's quite peculiar."

"By 'peculiar', you mean...", Thorne said, pretty suspicious.

"She acts perhaps a bit too social concerning off-duty.", DeForrest said. "Getting to know too much of people she'll get to work with. She even gets to know people by force, if needed."

"By force?", Thorne asked, surprised.

"Doctors say she has a strong social appetite.", DeForrest said. "To the point of utilizing intimidation techniques. An effect of a resocialization that went wrong when she served the UED, that's what they tell."

"Intimidation techniques of what kind, exactly?", Thorne asked.

"By what some people told me, she likes sneaking up on people and hanging a knife on their throats, when she gets the opportunity.", DeForrest said. "Just hearsay, if you're curious."

"_Just hearsay?_", Lilith asked. "This is serious, DeForrest."

"I wouldn't worry, Captain, she just intimidates people.", DeForrest said. "But it doesn't take a knife as her 'too friendly' behavior already does that job. Still, she's quite a nice person, once you give her the attention."

"What do you mean by that?", Lilith asked.

"She just likes to talk, try and compensate her instability as much as she can before she heads into action.", DeForrest said. "But she's no killer of friendly people, I assure you. And a good person. Just give time."

"Can I trust your word?", Lilith asked.

"Funny, I made the same question to the previous Captain.", DeForrest commented. "You can. And just give Keitel a job, it'll be okay."

"I hope you're right, Captain.", Thorne said. "Henderson's one of our best too, and we like to play safe."

"It's safe, mister Thorne, I assure you.", DeForrest said. "Anything else?"

"I think we're done.", Lilith said, getting on her feet along with Thorne. "We'll keep an eye on her, just in case. Thank you for your time, Captain DeForrest."

"Appreciated.", DeForrest said. "My door is open, if you need something..."

"We'll remember that.", Lilith said, as she and Thorne turned and started to walk away, to the access door that automatically opened. As both crossed and the door closed, DeForrest let out a sigh as a beeping sound came from his desk. He pressed the flashing button, activating the intercom.

"You've done quite well, _mein herr..._", said a soft, female German voice through the desk's speaker. "Your acting, your lines... I think you would deserve a reward..."

"I don't think so, Greta...", DeForrest said, sadly. "They've grown suspicious, especially after I told them of your preference for a blade. You're it was okay to let this one out?"

"Of course, _mein Herr_, of course...", Keitel said, letting a chuckle. "Not telling would grow a certain 'indiscretion' within this cruiser. Now they will be busy while I get my prize... _and yours._"

"You better know what you're doing, Greta...", DeForrest said. "I'm keeping my end of the deal, woman!"

"And I'm keeping mine, _herr Kapitan..._", Keitel said. "And I assured you once, since I helped you, that once _der Strom_ has ran it's course, everyone leaves happy..."

"_Ich glaube es, wann Ich sehe es._", DeForrest said, coldly, letting out a sigh. Keitel let out a chuckle.

"Do not worry, _mein herr._", Keitel said, smoothly. "It will be. Also, 'ze photos will continue secure, if you wonder... _Yet._"

DeForrest widened his eyes as the intercom shut down and nothing had or could be said since.

* * *

**WAR CHAMBER, DAELAAM ARK  
CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

Since the return to the War Chamber, it had never been as more moved as it could get. The commotion was high as the warriors exercised their bodies and their minds, when Biblos made questions that required memory, all across the chamber.

The exercising for Protoss was very much different than that of Terrans. Only a few things remained similar, like obstacle tracks, like the one Lasarra faced, or the long-distance running, that normally would be done rather on a planet than within a ship, as to put the Protoss in a sense of survival the classic Man versus Nature jogging alone could deliver. The Protoss, to increase their strength, often used, in their exercising, the shackle balls like the ones Lasarra still did, escalated a stack of chests like the one set in the chamber, where they raised, went down and circled around, waiting in line to escalate again, or pushed one against another in a duel of strength where no fighting was allowed, the only instrument being the hands, to force the other to the ground, akin to the Greek-Roman fighting of past times, without the fighting techniques, like two or three couples of warriors were doing as of then. Other than that, there was no flexing of muscles like the ones seen in Terran military training. There were no push-ups, no abdominals, not even equipment fit for exercising other than the stacked chests or whatever was available on the War Chamber, including the Protoss themselves. Protoss were somehow unknown and not familiar with Terran methods of flexing or exercising their muscles, not to mention the aliens felt it was better the strength was tested and then grown on something or using something, like the shackled balls, so far the only instrument for exercising.

In the middle of it all those warriors, like if they trained normally, stood Lasarra, whom still wore her shackled balls and entered again the line of ten warriors to escalate that stack again, something she was assigned to by Biblos. Her eye remained suspicious concerning the Praetor, knowing he would not forget so easily nor forgiven what occurred moments ago on the obstacle track below. Her own mind even attempted to assimilate the event herself, as well as that of the reinvigoration she could experience due to her first deep subsuming of the Khala. So much events, all that happened in one day. All in her first day, in that training that did not seem so special, anymore. The light and shine of warriors, the inspiration and glory that made Lasarra join, like gold old and rusty, started to lose it's _shine_.

Her eyes also remained focused, for long moments, on the Disciple that now pushed against the other Zealot in that exercise. Lasarra tried to wonder how Naviri must have been, since she intervened for her when she needed the most. That was when her turn came to escalate that stack again, the ball shackles weighting down again on her wrists, Lasarra's muscles hurting. Though, now, it was a pain she now was getting used to. In the background, Biblos recited out loud his lessons as he walked around.

"Brothers. Sisters. Disciples, Adepts, Initiate. Regardless of standing, or experience or physical form, you are _all_ Protoss warriors.", Biblos said, coldly. "As warriors, you uphold values and strive for perfection in the way of war. As you have learned so clearly, _no thanks to our dear Initiate_, Loyalty is a value to be upheld and as important as Honor. Yet, these are not the only values. We also uphold the values of Duty, Obedience, Strength and Faith. As warriors, Strength is the value we held in esteem the most, above all else. Many believe that Strength is limited alone to the physical prowess. This is the most inaccurate. For it encompasses so much the Strength of the Body as the Strength of the Mind, as the warrior trains to think quickly and thus act, and the Strength of the Soul, which the warrior reinforces his courage and removes his fears. All warriors strive to strengthen all three. And only a true warrior makes such accomplishment. It is what separate him or her from the savage beasts of the Zerg, the immoral mercenaries of the Terrans or the honorless bandits of the Tal'Darim. To become a true warrior, one capable of mastering all three Strengths, is more than an achievement, warriors. It is also an obligation. One that you are to partake, every moon and sun of your lives, until the Khala comes to collect you from this mortal plane."

Biblos then stopped by the stack of chests, where Lasarra was climbing the second chest.

"_Initiate!_", Biblos called. Lasarra, however, did not stop. "Do you know what a warrior is? What it means to be a warrior?"

"A warrior is a fulcrum of balance, Praetor.", Lasarra said, fighting the tire. "A fulcrum of several balances. He... He hones his strength, he control his anger, he...", she tried continuing before her mind got stuck, as so much the effort of the exercise as the lack of effort in remembering disrupted her. "He..."

"He what, Initiate?", Biblos asked, coldly.

"He...", Lasarra tried to remember, but it was difficult. Too difficult. "Forgive me, Praetor, I cannot remember."

"You will stay one more hour, then, training this carcass you dare call a body.", Biblos said. "_You will not reinvigorate yourself._ May the pain and tire reinforce your mind and sharpen it, as you try and remember the answer, and any other you may have forgotten. Is this understood, Initiate?"

"Aye, Praetor, it is...", Lasarra said, trying to control her anger as she reached the atop of the chest and turned to get herself down and off the stack. She cursed herself and her lack of memory as she then returned to the last in line, taking a chance to snoop at Naviri. She was holding herself steady as she continued to fight the other warrior, until she fell down as her strength finally gave in. She got on her feet, nodded to the warrior whom outmatched her, as she got on her feet and started running around the chamber. A while passed, Lasarra having passed over the stack two times, before a loud noise echoed across the chamber, like a large bell.

"_Warriors!_", Biblos roared. "_Close in!_"

Immediately, all warriors, including Lasarra, ceased their duties to take their position in the very base of the altar. Biblos himself stepped up the altar as N'arkham stood by his side.

"Another day finishes.", Biblos said. "Another day, in the long road of war, for many here. But for one, 'tis just the first. The first where much was learned and where much effort was put. The lessons learned here, today, are not only for her, but for all. Remember these lessons, warriors. Remember the meaning of these lessons. You are the light of Aiur, a light that is still to shine again on our home long lost. And when dawn shines, I have every confidence it shall be the last dawn. For it will shine forever. Go now. Remember your training. Remember your vow. Remember your duty. _Anht Zagatir Nas!_"

"**UHN ORE'KI ATUM!**", all warriors roared. All but Lasarra.

"_Und lara khar._", Biblos dismissed, waving with his left hand. "_En Taro Adun._"

With this, all warriors started to immediately disperse. Lasarra looked around to search for Naviri, but she could hardly be seen. She went looking for her, with a bit of a hurry, before the Disciple would leave the War Chamber. She walked back, towards the crowd, and searching amongst it, as she called Naviri's name repeatedly, but no answer came. Then, after a hurried search, she came to see Naviri, whom slowly walked just because of the crowd, and Lasarra quickly caught up.

"Naviri.", Lasarra called as she approached.

"Talk not with me.", Naviri said, coldly.

"I wanted to thank you for what you have done for me.", Lasarra insisted.

"And what have you done?", Naviri asked, bitter. "_You simply offered yourself for sacrifice!_"

"_You were going to pay dearly!_", Lasarra exclaimed, shocked. "I was simply repaying you for what you did!"

"_I did not ask to!_", Naviri exclaimed. "And now, because of you, Biblos himself is infuriated!"

"I never expected Raseac to intervene in my behalf!", Lasarra defended herself. "If Biblos wanted to injure me, I was simply _granting_ him the allowance."

"_The punishment was not yours!_", Naviri retorted. "And I could handle with what he would do to me. You would not. Do you believe what you suffered in your initiation was the worst? _You know nothing of it!_"

"_Well, forgive me, then, for aiding a friend!_", Lasarra said, offended. "For aiding one whom helped me when no one would!"

"_I was doing my duty, Initiate!_", Naviri stated, firmly. "Biblos had crossed the line. You did not have to do this. And now, I stand in debt with you, something he wants the less of his warriors. 'Tis the Inititate whom must be in debt with the Disciple, not the other way around. _Hierarchy, Lasarra!_ The lower learn as the higher instructs! It has been before and must be from now onward!"

"_Initiate! _You are not insolent to leave when I told you not to, are you!?", a roar was heard from behind, as Biblos looked for Lasarra. She looked behind for a moment and looked at Naviri one last time.

"Then... forgive me for breaking such tradition, Naviri.", Lasarra said, sadly.

The Zealot simply said nothing as she turned around to leave. Lasarra never felt to injured within in her own existence. At least, not in such manner.

'_Thank you._', Lasarra thought, as she turned around to return to the center of the War Chamber. The Disciple stopped for a moment and looked behind, in regret.

'_Lasarra... Thank you._', Naviri said, sadly.

Lasarra simply stood before Biblos, determined to face what was coming before her, with the ball shackles hanging down before her. Biblos simply stared as N'arkham watched. Besides the trio, only the failed Zealot, Anaris, stood in posture and in the await, staring at the Initiate.

"N'arkham.", Biblos called, as the Zer'atai Dark Templar approached. "Remove the shackles. Then leave."

With this, the Prelate approached the very crate where the shackled balls could be operated from and worked a command with his mind. With this, the shackles immediately opened, as the balls fell to the ground and let out a noise that echoed through the chamber. Lasarra simply stared at Biblos for quite some time, as N'arkham went to pick up the shackled balls and place them back on the crate.

"Do you think you will_ still_ intimidate me with such stare, Initiate?", Biblos asked, coldly.

"I do not.", Lasarra answered. "You still wish to punish me, Praetor?"

"_You clearly deserve it._", Biblos answered, coldly. "Unfortunately, duty stays my hand.", he added, as he then pointed at the chest stack organized in the center of the inlay. "Go. Continue the exercise. But Anaris will do it twice in every turn you do."

Lasarra looked for a moment at the stack, and then at the crate where the shackles were ultimately put in.

"Without the shackles, Praetor?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"_Do you want them?_", Biblos asked back, cold as well. He then turned to Anaris, whom was still limping by his injure, provoked on the obstacle track. "You will go first, Anaris! NOW!"

With this said, the injured Zealot walked to the first row of the stacked chests and started escalating them, though the strength to climb up was minimal. So was at the second degree. However, it was in the descent that Anaris could feel the pain, as the descent had hit hard his injured leg in both two drops. Anaris could yelp in a pain understandable.

Lasarra only looked as the Zealot attempted to climb again and again, and drop again and again, but, after the first drop, the pain impacted on his leg and he lost balance as he fell from the stack to the ground, the hurt just being too much. Lasarra's expression was one of horror and wanting to help, but she stood still, as she knew this would bring further trouble with her said 'superior officer'. Biblos remained indifferent, standing tall. In the back, N'arkham had placed the crate on it's original place of belonging as he started to step down the degrees of the altar, starting his long walk to the exit of the War Chamber.

"This one does not count, shameful one.", Biblos said, coldly. "You must accomplish it entirely. Get on your feet and do it again."

Grinding in pain, Anaris slowly got to his feet as he limped to the start of the chest stack to escalate it again. Lasarra only stood there, her face one of disgust as she looked at the Zealot warrior, all wounded, with a startled face and then at Biblos with a look of disgust as she clenched her fists. The Praetor, however, only stared forward, raising his eyebrows at the hurt Zealot.

"You are angry.", Biblos said, coldly. "I can sense it from here. Is it pity from the one whom embarrassed himself? Speak, you have earned this right."

"He is wounded, Praetor.", Lasarra said, her temper growing. "'Tis not a simple pain that recovers, something occurred to his leg."

"You wish to help him.", Biblos said.

"He clearly needs so.", Lasarra said.

"_You cannot._", Biblos said. "Only Anaris can help himself. Only you can help yourself. His shame is not yours to cleanse. As your weakness are not his, nor Naviri's to resolve."

"_Weakness?_", Lasarra said, growing angry. "I could barely recover myself by the electrical arcs!"

"You were not the only whom fell to such.", Biblos said, coldly. "Anaris had his turn, as well, I assure you. Do not feel yourself so special, Initiate."

"How can you be so cold is beyond me...", Lasarra said, disgusted.

"Eons of war, Lasarra.", Biblos said. "You will get to ignore such as well, on the day you step in this Chamber not as student, but as Instructor."

"If I would, by some sunturn, become that, I would act different.", Lasarra said.

"_Helping those whom can only help themselves?_", Biblos mocked. "A weakness not fit for a warrior?"

"I would not let one clearly wounded to pass through this ordeal, again and again!", Lasarra said, angry.

"_Enough!_", Biblos shouted. "He _will_ pass through this ordeal, Initiate. Even if it takes this and the next moonrise, he will. He _will_ injure himself again and again to cleanse himself of his shame. And you will do _nothing_, unless you would like to share his wound as you both take turns, both legs injured."

Lasarra widened her eyes in disbelief of the Praetor's threat, as Anaris started to escalate the stack.

"There is no painless way to clean a stain of shame, Initiate.", Biblos said. "None at all. The Terrans of very ancient times understood this quite well. Those ashamed, in their cultures, stabbed their primitive blades in their bellies or had their heads or reproductive organs cut. Those ancient Terrans understood the concept of shame and honor. Pity that now, despite they evolved to allow space travel, they devolved to a _paternalistic_ culture, where their weakest are condoned and treated lightly, not mattering to shame or honor, at all. Now, behold the results: They fight one another, as their societies grow corrupt with greed and powerlust, and an overvalued thirst for primitive mating rituals, so that they have despicably turned into a commercial area. While the Zerg are the most dangerous of species, for their innumerable breed and relentless thirst for destruction, the Terrans are the most corrupting. Particularly their female breed, as one even now incorporates the Swarm and has driven it to become the pure embodiment of evil incarnate. That is why we value Strength more than all others. Only the strong, with a mind without doubt and a soul hardened, can stand against such evil. We do what we have to do. We stand against evil, Lasarra, even though now it is weakened, with the fall of the Queen of Blades. And to stand against evil, we must cut weakness like the rotten fruit from a tree, or a limb too infected to save, so the body may survive. Faith before Fear, Action before Doubt, Zeal before Weakness."

As Biblos had finished, Anaris had succeeded in finishing the second climb, even after he fell another time and started over again, opening room for Lasarra, disgusted with Biblos, whom now looked at the Initiate with an expression too indifferent.

"Pretend you can deny it, Initiate, but at least your hatred of me is _honest_.", Biblos said. "But know that I am _counting_ on such hate. The more you hate me, the more you will learn."

The Praetor simply gestured at the chest stack as Anaris now rested his back, his eyes shut tight as he tried to cope with the pain.

"Your turn, Lasarra.", Biblos said, somewhat mocking. "And when you can, _come and get me_."

Bristling at his insult, Lasarra immediately went to the stack to escalate it. Somehow, she would teach such a cold Praetor a lesson. The thought and mockery flashed high on his mind.

'_And when you can, come and get me._'

A single thought that now drove Lasarra to a new edge. Her initiation, the attempt to punish Naviri, and now such a cold punishment, one that crossed the clear, thin line between instructing and abusing. There was no more pain. No more sorrow.

All thoughts, for Lasarra, now focused on one thing, one that now was synonymous to Biblos, for her.

_Hate._

* * *

**ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK PEAKS, CHAR**  
**ONE HOUR LATER**

The flesh doors to the Evolution Pit had opened as Kerrigan herself, her head high and Za'gara stepped inside the egg-riddled chamber. Abathur, whom worked on his web, turned around and watched at both as Izsha also came in. The air of optimism and excitement were high on the air, particularly on Kerrigan, whom now set up the plan made up so much from Za'gara's idea to utilize the Changeling as well as the inception a single memory brought on her head, one that Warfield would not see it coming. If, of course, the distraction would work. The stakes were perhaps a bit higher than what Za'gara estimated, but much higher were the rewards. Kerrigan was no strategist herself, but she knew now this was a plan too good to pass down. Not to mention that was the only plan, and the time to make a next one could mean the end of the blackout period Izsha was counting on, which would mean the Dominion fleet would arrive in time. In the end, it all based on the oldest of dillemas: All or nothing.

Still, excitement was high, a light of hope, a word unknown to the Zerg, had come up shining. It usually happened in a prelude to what would be the fiercest siege Char had ever witnessed. That is, if Zerg Hive Clusters didn't count as sieges, after all...

"How's it going, Abathur?", Izsha asked. "Is it done?"

"The modifications you have requested to the Viper have been performed.", Abathur said. "As requested, the Viper has had it's strength duplicated to sling large or small objects, like Banelings, at large distances. Also, a sense of precision was added, although this may require a more clear visual acquiring for the intent to utilize the Viper as a siege weapon to be effective."

"What does that mean?", Kerrigan asked. "We're gonna need a _spotter_ for that?"

"I am afraid this is the only solution, my Queen.", Abathur answered.

"Are you kidding me?", Kerrigan asked, her face serious. "_Serious, are you joking, Abathur?_"

"With permission, this can be easily remedied.", Za'gara readily said. "Our Overseers, the evolution our Overlords can perform, were meant to sacrifice their ventral sacs and other functions but minion control so they can have an augmented line of sight and audition, to cover the entire Dauntless Plateau, in terms of range. Therefore, we can station one, though at a safer distance, but not with the loss of visual contact."

"Izsha stands correct, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"That's not a bad idea.", Izsha said. "Okay, this problem is solved. Now, what of the plan, Kerrigan? What you cooked up?"

"Well, it's definitely a first, has everything to fail, but, if done right, this might be talked for years.", Kerrigan said, allowing herself a smirk.

"_And what isn't?_", Izsha asked, casually. "Fire away, I'm all ears."

"Okay.", Kerrigan said, taking a deep breath. "This one will mostly depend more on Za'gara's idea, to utilize the Changeling. But, as the Brood Mother graciously pointed out, this depends on being done right too. So here's what we're doing. By the time we start this, and the Changeling becomes me, though I confess I'll be a bit freaked out, we're gonna depart the Leviathan, or at least take-off and have it pretend it's heading to the other stronghold, which Izsha told me it's on the Dead End Mountains, a place that is supposed to be safe, but she's taken precautions for new assault paths."

Kerrigan paused a bit and saw everyone was paying attention to everything she said. A small shiver went up her spine, but now it wasn't the time to budge to that.

"Now, Warfield sure as hell is not stupid.", Kerrigan said. "He must have used these hours preparing for everything we might do, including our possible departure. He may not want to fall for it, if he's smart enough to recognize a distraction plan, but he won't want to sit idle when the distress call from the second stronghold comes up. Za'gara, this is where you start it all. Timing is everything, here, you'll _have_ to be patient on this one. The moment the Leviathan takes off and starts heading, you must wait one hour and then launch the attack. Then, wait five or ten minutes, if you'd like, to have the Changeling show up in plain sight, and be sure to pick a very good spot, preferably atop a rock, watching the fortress. Don't spare anything, force them to call for help. But Warfield will probably already want to send men before the artifact, first, so deal with those, too. Make Warfield believe we mean business on that stronghold. But be moderate, do not destroy everything _that_ quickly. The idea is to get the artifact off the base, and until that's done, don't be too much aggressive. Just enough for Warfield to send out the artifact. Understand?"

"I understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "As it was with our primary battle in the caverns, as you collected eggs while I sent minions."

"Something like that, but a little notch down.", Kerrigan said. "Now, the moment the artifact leaves the base, we'll notify you. Wait until it shows up and then you_ get the hell out_, Za'gara."

"Retreat, my Queen?", Za'gara asked.

"Yeah, you haul your ass out.", Kerrigan said. "It doesn't matter if you're losing or winning, you're there to get Warfield's attention. When the artifact shows up, get out and get over here to help us rid of _Harkonnen_. Now, the fortress itself. There is just one way in and one way out by land. That's what Warfield's counting to counter the ground assault, hence all the artillery many of it directed to the front. Not to mention the aerial defenses, to prevent us from taking to the skies. Fortunately, the Vipers can handle this, and we can rain down the Banelings to strike down the turrets or the welcoming committee behind the gate. Still, the gate is still a problem. Until we can take it out, the wave will be stuck and will clutter, becoming a perfect meat grinder for artillery."

"The gate may not be much of a problem.", Izsha said. "We got the trebuchets, we got the battering rams."

"Battering rams?", Kerrigan asked, a bit confused, looking at Izsha. "_Ultralisks?_"

"They finally hatched.", Izsha said, smiling. "Not to mention that Za'gara managed to recover some on her part. We can send them to the front. They'll absorb the artillery as they deal with the gate. And, with the confusion the Vipers will be causing throwing those Banelings, a defense will be complicated to form, in time."

"It could be, but it's too easy.", Kerrigan said. "Warfield mighty have accounted for this as well. He may have mined the way before the gate, to prevent this."

"We send expendable minions first, then.", Izsha said. "If there are mines, they will clear them out. You said Warfield had new mines, right?"

"Widow Mines.", Kerrigan answered, another light growing up. "That's not a bad idea, Izsha. Those minions will force the mines to fire and grant a safe passage to the Ultralisks."

"And the moment the gate falls, the Zerg will do what they do best.", Izsha said, smiling. "_They'll swarm._"

"Even with the gate down, they have a considerable amount of flame-based defenses, to deal with our Zergling and Baneling numbers.", Kerrigan said. "This fight will be everything but easy."

"Even with all their defenses, it'll be too much for them to hold against.", Izsha said.

"What of the Terrans' nuclear missiles, my Queen?", Za'gara said. "Warfield can very well launch them, as he efforts to hold the gate."

"Good point.", Izsha deadpanned. "Damn."

"If he does, we pull everything back, as far as we can.", Kerrigan readily said. "We'll make Warfield waste ammunition. I suggest you do the same on your attack, Za'gara. The people there may have nukes as well. Pull back your minions a bit, wait 'til the explosion happens and the blast clears and then get back to the fight. You can do this, can't you?"

"A strategy strange, my Queen, to retreat a bit because of nuclear ordinance, but it can be done.", Za'gara answered. "Though it is nearly the same as retreating due to the appearing of the artifact."

"No, that's different.", Kerrigan quickly correct. "When you see a nuke launched, you pull back to clear the blast area and avoid heavy losses. When you see the artifact, you get the hell out for good, winning or losing. See the difference?"

Za'gara bowed, then. "Clearly, my Queen."

"Now, getting back to the battle, Warfield won't stand idle or simply hold and launch nukes.", Kerrigan said. "He'll want to launch the air force to counter the Vipers, the moment he sees them. That's where the flyers come in. They'll shield the Vipers."

"These flyers may have afterburner engines to evade our minions, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "They can retreat quickly when they destroy a Viper to then return and strike again."

"_Don't remind me..._", Izsha closed her eyes, still a bit angry in reminding that.

"Our minions will be close to the Vipers at all times.", Kerrigan said. "We won't fall twice. If they run away with their boosters, we'll let'em. What matters is covering the Vipers."

"And what of the Overseer, Kerrigan?", Izsha asked. "Warfield won't be stupid to know there's a spotter for those things. He can strike the thing down, for all I know."

"He'll be too much under pressure, by then, to realize that.", Kerrigan said. "A ground assault, bombardment, his defenses countered and not working as he'd like... He'll want results fast. He won't think sideways with that much pressure, around."

"Funny, since when you've became the strategist?", Izsha asked, reminding what Kerrigan asked in the Nerve Center.

"Arcturus taught me a thing or two concerning pressure.", Kerrigan answered. "A guy gets too pressed, he's liable to make mistakes or not do anything that solves."

"Makes sense.", Izsha said.

"Continuing, then...", Kerrigan said. "The moment we breach the fortress, Warfield will try and put a fierce fight, at every turn. I think that, if we want to use our Ultralisks, we'll have to focus on the bigger guns, then."

"The Thors, you mean?", Izsha said. "They're pretty tough for a few Baneling slings, you know that, right?"

"We'll have to try.", Kerrigan said. "At least until the Thors are at the range of the Kaiser Blades. The real fight will get when we come to the Primary Operations Command. Warfield will want to concentrate the defense as a last-ditch effort, buying time for the artifact to return."

"We'll probably have cleared most of the defenses, by then.", Izsha said. "We can approach the Vipers and pound the defenses. Warfield will be made short work of, once we breach the P.O.C."

"No.", Kerrigan said.

Izsha stared then at Kerrigan, not understanding, but also her suspicions increasing.

"What?", Izsha asked.

"You desire for the General to live through the siege, my Queen?", Za'gara asked.

"Yeah, I want him alive.", Kerrigan said. "He'll deliver my message to Mengsk."

"Message?", Za'gara asked, dumbstruck. "Of what sort?"

"_Ain't it obvious?_", Kerrigan asked, raising her eyebrows. "That we're alive, we're back, and we're coming for him, but when we want and where is our choosing. Any problems with that, any of you?"

"I would hardly recommend it, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "Neutralizing Warfield has an advantage in neutralizing a strategic asset. Besides, if he is allowed to escape, he can return and attain a larger army."

"After I'm through with him, I doubt he will...", Kerrigan replied. "And you, Izsha? Any complaints, like the other times?"

The halfling, however, instead of getting angry, as Kerrigan presumed, only frowned.

"Fine by me.", Izsha said. "Mengsk will even lose time chasing a Ghost once we're done and leave, if you ask me..."

"Leave?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Izsha, dumbstruck. "You mean, once we win, we're getting out of Char? I thought we'd stay here and get to work rebuilding!"

"I thought so as well, Izsha!", Za'gara said, upset. "What sort of a 'prank' this is!?"

"Hardly a prank, Za'gara...", Izsha said, letting out a sigh. "If you want the truth, ladies, I _never_ intended to stay once Warfield was dealt with. As I've learned with Jim Raynor, particularly after his stunt on Korhal, it's better to just keep moving and get mobile. You build roots in a place and you're liable to be caught and not run away in time. Besides, we have other Brood Mothers to get, remember?"

Kerrigan let out a sigh. Izsha had a point on that matter. After all the Swarm, despite the strength they were gathering, probably wouldn't still be enough to handle the wrath of the whole Dominion fleet, whom would no doubt come with all their ordinance, this time. They would need to get on moving. Plus, the probable fact Mengsk would no doubt want to jump on Kerrigan the moment she'd be spotted delivered a bit of an advantage in misdirecting the enemy. Something the Sons of Korhal did with the Confederacy many times over, flawing up only twice, on Chau Sara and Antiga Prime. Or Raynor's warband, in their campaign against Arcturus himself.

"Yeah, we have.", Kerrigan said, not wanting to give Izsha the feeling she was right. "Well, that about summons it for a plan. What do you think?"

"Only one big flaw, and it's right at the distraction.", Izsha answered. "We're gonna have to be too convincing to get Warfield to move the artifact."

"As I once said to my Queen, Izsha, the Terrans always protect and fight for one another, when necessary.", Za'gara said. "At the very dangerous apex of the attack on the second Terran stronghold, and at the sight of your 'presence', my Queen, Warfield will not want to stay idle as those like his own men die in battle, even though he is aware this can be a trap, which I doubt, as he'll see our Leviathan leaving this region. The moment he knows the reinforcements he sends may not be enough, he will want to move the artifact, to save them."

"Brood Mother Za'gara is correct, Izsha.", Abathur said. "The concept of warfare involves not only physical factor, but also psychological factor. The capacity this stratagem has, of a psychological influence on a physical factor, is something not to be easily discarded."

"Warfield might get a little too paranoiac to move the artifact, even with a convincing acting.", Izsha said. "He'll even suspect Kerrigan on the spot, in plain sight, for all I know."

"It is something he will not expect, true, but he will not want to stand idle, if this happens.", Za'gara said. "He will want to act, even though this may put the artifact itself at risk. We can even shoot down the transport carrying it, neutralizing this threat, if necessary."

"Probably the trinket will be all juiced up and he'll fire it with the Dropship moving to clean any hit we try to pull. Then all he has to do is get it back and not move it, anymore.", Kerrigan said. "No, it's better he keeps on moving the artifact unharmed, or he'll get suspicious too early."

"Well, this better work, then.", Izsha said.

"It HAS to work, Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "We have nothing else."

"Then all that's left is the time.", Izsha said. "When?"

"Let's wait a bit, first.", Kerrigan said. "A couple of hours. We have to make Warfield think we're not going anywhere."

"Agreed.", Izsha said, nodding her head in assurance.

"As do I.", Za'gara said. "And then we depart, my Queen?"

"You're going early, if you ask me.", Kerrigan said. "Twenty minutes earlier, or a half-hour, with the Changeling. You'll get things ready for the attack on the second stronghold."

"I understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said, nodding. A bit of silence then proceeded, like if all were waiting for something to happen.

"Well...", Kerrigan said, as she let out a sigh. "That's about it."

"Then I shall prepare myself, my Queen, with your permission.", Za'gara said, as she bowed.

"You can go, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said. The Brood Mother then turned to leave. Only Abathur and Izsha continued to look at her.

"It's over, Abathur.", Izsha said.

"Affirmative. I will resume my work, then.", Abathur said, as he turned around to work on the web. Kerrigan only let out a sigh as she looked around.

"Anxious?", Izsha asked, as she closed in a bit.

"And who isn't?", Kerrigan asked back. "The most heavily fortified installation, shielded by a trinket that can burn Zerg at an entire region and we're going to hit it. And we're counting on the most unlikely of strains to do it."

"Yeah, we're writing history here, little girl.", Izsha said, letting out a sigh. "But I like to think this will be a _preview_ to main event. The siege of Korhal."

"Shame it'll take long, as we'll be getting back the Brood Mothers.", Kerrigan said. "Mengsk will have got himself stronger, by then."

"He will. But we'll be strong too, when we get there.", Izsha said. "I just hope you remember the good times we've had when the end comes."

Kerrigan simply smirked, ironically, at Izsha.

"I wouldn't count on that...", Kerrigan said, as she turned around and left the Evolution Pit. Izsha then scoffed a bit, almost laughing, when she recoiled back to the hole where she came from.

* * *

**NEW CANAAN, TYRADOR IX**  
**NIGHT TIME**

The night sky was quite starry as it was a bit warm. A cold breeze blew as Nova Terra could feel the refreshing cold touch her skin, reminding her to be awake. She sat on the every edge of the rooftop, her grip on her C-20A tight as her blue eyes kept a very keen watch on her surroundings, her ears open and ready for any possible sound that was everything but natural of the town or climate. Or even close, someone attempting to break in. She was a bit exposed from the point of view of that plain rooftop, that had it's ventilation system, an access door, an antenna and the power terminal, but she chose to be there. She wanted to do everything but to sleep, to avoid those memories again and again. At sleep, the mind could be caught easily off guard. When she was awake, Nova could put up a fight and focus on the job, though at the cost of some physical strain from tire, due to not sleeping to pass through the next day.

But, in military, especially in the special forces branch the Ghost Program was, remaining awake was quite a common thing. Some kept themselves awake for a modicum of roughly seventy-two to ninety-six hours. Some like Nova, whom now stared at the far horizon of the New Canaan city, not much lights on, particularly these three hours past the midnight, A.K.A, three in the morning. Only the more irresponsible of teenagers on their parties and bars, security guards working shifts and people like her remained awake, though Ghosts did it at times. She took a deep breath, continuing to look at that horizon, as another memory was struggling itself to come up. While outside she seemed serene and calm, within her mind she fought an endless struggle against an enemy that didn't seem to want to die, always coming back, only getting weakened when she pan-brained her mind: _Herself._ Her memories. _Scars of the mind_, in her opinion. She simply suffered too much to want to remember those things.

_Fagin... Tosh... Nadaner..._ Each and every last devil in her mind, whom liked to haunt her at times. Painful memories, of the massacre on the Terra Skyscraper, of the experiences on the Gutter. It all sounded crisp and clear. It all remembered with a far more nitid view than any other person could recall. The corpses of mother and father on the ground, her friends and employees of the Old Family, all cut apart by those rebels, whom were granted access by one she trusted the most. One whom spoke against her father, Constantino, when he sent her to that shuttle to that resort world because of the alien invasions. But Edward Peters only wanted her to stay so she could die along with the rest of the family. She closed her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath, working to forget that and return to focus on watching ahead, when suddenly, a light caught up to her.

A red light, aiming right between her eyes.

Quickly reacting, she moved away and got on her feet, dashing to the left as she got back and aimed the rifle. But, when she aimed her rifle, the light was missing. Her breathe was heavy and fast as her heart raced. She kept her grip on the rifle, aming it at the skyscraper where the light came from. However, the light didn't return since. She still kept aiming it, before she lowered her rifle, her face an angry one. The shiver in her spine tingled.

Someone was playing with her. Otherwise he or she would take a shot, not just play with the targeting laser.

* * *

**EXECUTOR'S QUARTERS, DAELAAM ARK**  
**CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR**

Slow, bitter steps echoed in the empty halls of the Daelaam Ark as the Initiate put back her wrist pieces containing those Psi-Blades she gained from the pains she suffered in her initiation. Her blue blood boiled with anger seen only on the Aeon of Strife, when the empathic link was still long lost and the tribes fought one another in a murderous civil war. She could hardly believe such a cold blood, coming from one whom should have been the example of instruction in that Chamber. One whom simply let out one clearly injured to perform an ordeal so painful, again and again. A cruelty unfitting for a Protoss and unbecoming of a warrior, as Biblos liked to proclaim.

_Oh, how she wished to be able to let out those blades and draw the blood out of Biblos' vessel..._ How she wished to repay what he did to her and others whom suffered equally or worse than her, one cut at a time. She knew it'd practically impossible. Biblos was her instructor, as he was of others whom shared the same golden armor of the Daelaam Zealots. To face him would be a violation of discipline simply unforgivable, one that not even Raseac himself would shield her from. Not to mention she knew little of the practice of combat. Biblos would no doubt subdue her or his warriors would, or even Sentries themselves, as she experienced in the Recovery Chamber.

She cursed everything since she could finally leave, leaving Anaris to his fate with Biblos as both male Protoss stood at the War Chamber. She cursed that Praetor for all the pain and suffering and sorrow. She cursed those other warriors, whom apparently would do nothing, as self-assured and so alike him that they were. She cursed herself, for her weakness and literally so few skills in combat.

And Naviri... _What kind of a retribution was that?_ After she stood in the line for the Disciple, it would be expected that she'd be grateful to Lasarra. Yet, she wasn't, reprehending the Initiate with talking of hierarchy and the fact Lasarra offered herself for something she knew it was far worse. Something that Lasarra would understand as minimal concept of Honor. The most basic of concepts. When one does something to help you, it's expected you repay him back in kind or better.

An air of nervousness gripped Lasarra's hearts as she closed on the entrance the Executor's Quarters, a place where her first dues of pain were delivered, by Raseac himself. Hesitating at first, she crossed the arc entrance, where an energy barrier stood by, as she's seen the Executor standing by the viewing energy window of the Ark, overlooking the Iceworld where Lasarra, it was told, would come down to work at times, at the new settlement being formed at a planet that, it was told, was practically unwelcoming to all but it's scarce fauna. Raseac turned around, feeling the Initiate's presence, as she bowed in respect to the commanding officer.

"You are late, Initiate.", Raseac said.

"I spent one additional hour after today's training session as punishment.", Lasarra answered. "I failed to answer a question the Praetor asked me. I could not remember due to my tire and physical pain."

"And he is correct, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "You tire and suffer pain now so it will not come so easily in the heat of battle. You train your mind so you will not forget. And you train your soul so it will be ready when the most difficult of challenges and requests come. But that is not the concern, Initiate. For now, I would like to talk with you concerning today. Your first day. I must say that you are one whom considerably improved in your progress, unlike others."

"You refer to my incident with the Khala in the obstacle track, Executor?", Lasarra asked.

"Hardly an incident, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "For one that almost fell in the electrical arcs in the first day, this is no small feat, for one of your standing."

"Biblos hardly believes so.", Lasarra replied, bitter.

"Praetor Biblos, Initiate.", Raseac corrected. "But one such thing is the most unusual of all, as well. Not many were able to subsume themselves so deeply into the Khala as you did. An Initiate, one to yet trail the Path of Ascension, even less."

"Is this an accusation, Executor?", Lasarra asked, worried.

"Of course not.", Biblos said, a bit offended by the question. "I am simply pointing out a fact of something that seemingly, for one like you, would be practically impossible."

"In all due honesty, I believed so, as well.", Lasarra commented, humbly.

"Yet, even so, while you have progressed, I would ask you do not fool yourself to believe you will shortly become a Disciple.", Raseac said, firmly, yet soft. "Like all others, for their sake and yours, you will continue to train normally, and learn with the proper time. The trail of Initiates takes at least five sunturns to complete it's course. And I must ask you to not fall in the temptation to subsume yourself again for the duration of this training, even if it is in the most difficult of challenges. A warrior knows he must fortify himself, and you must utilize your strength from your current physical condition. Do you understand this, Lasarra?"

Lasarra closed her eyes, but then nodded in obedience, though she now was a bit sad and still a bit angry, at the events occurred earlier.

"Good.", Raseac said, returning to his desk, apparently now restored after Lasarra's last 'visit' to the place, if that could be called one. He sit himself down as Lasarra walked forward to the desk, standing on her feet. "Now, how much did you study of the Khala, prior to your initiation?"

"Only the most basic of teachings, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "Before then, I did not believe such could happen with myself."

"Humble to end, I see, Initiate.", Raseac said. "An admirable trait, though a small one, too. As is your loyalty to defending Disciple Naviri. It was she whom assisted you with the subsuming, was she not?"

Lasarra hesitated a bit, as she looked at the Executor in the eye. "She...", Lasarra started, hesitating a bit, still. "She has only suggested it to me, and I did not know how. It was another Protoss whom assited me."

Raseac had his attention caught, as he leaned forward, deadlocking the Initiate.

"_Another Protoss?_", the Executor asked. "Are you certain of this?"

"I do.", Lasarra said. "The voice was completely different from that of Naviri. It was wise, while Naviri's was immediate. It was persisting, while that of Naviri's was immediate. And this voice was a male one."

"You can recall this voice?", Raseac said. "Can you recognize it, should you hear it again?"

"I believe I can, Executor.", Lasarra said. "It was this voice, not Naviri, whom aided me say those words, whom revigorated me."

"We call those the Rites of Strength.", Raseac said. "The very basic words a warrior can ever learn. But listen carefully, I do not want you listening to this voice, no longer, Lasarra. Clearly there may be one among us whom is attempting to facilitate things for you, when this must not be. If this occurs again, you must_ resist_ and inform me, when possible. Do you understand that?"

Lasarra nodded.

"Well, then...", Raseac said, leaning back. "And even though she did not told you these Rites, you defended her?"

"I was aware the... Praetor would do things worse to her.", Lasarra said. "Even though she admitted such, which was not true, I could not stand her to suffer."

"And thus you went in her assistance?", Raseac asked.

"I did.", Lasarra said, lowering her head. "Though she did not appreciate it. When I went to talk with her, she said she never asked for it, and that now she was in debt with me, something she damned herself for. She claimed it is an Initiate whom must be in debt to the Disciple, not the other way around."

"And it is.", Raseac said. "Though this is not something too bad in itself. She may say this, as to not gather the fury of Biblos, but, far inside, I know she is thankful for your intervention."

"A prediction too optimistic, in my opinion, Executor.", Lasarra said.

"It is the truth, Initiate.", Raseac said. "Many of the greatest bonds between two souls were rather made by one being indebted to another. Though remember that this debt is not something to be spent lightly. Only on what you need the most important."

"I understand.", Lasarra said, lowering her head down. Raseac noticed her posture.

"Is this sadness I feel, Lasarra?", Raseac said.

"Anger, as well, Executor.", Lasarra said.

"Of what?", Raseac asked, sounding patient. "Or whom?"

"It would be inappropriate to say this, foremost to you.", Lasarra said.

"Why do I have the anticipated feeling this concerns the Praetor?", Raseac asked. "I have stopped him from harming you or Naviri, as I recall, Initiate."

"But not Anaris.", Lasarra said, bitter, looking at the Executor. "You have not seen what Biblos did to him in the War Chamber."

"I have given him the permission, Lasarra.", Raseac said, apparently not showing a slight sense of interest. "He has done what had to be done."

"And that is forcing one who is clearly injured into an ordeal, Executor?", Lasarra asked, angry. "Anaris was _clearly_ injured in his leg, doubtlessly a wound that is not normal nor natural. And still, Biblos has forced him into that, with me watching him fall and tumble again and again!"

"I am well aware of Adept Anaris injury, Lasarra.", Raseac said.

"_What!?_", Lasarra asked, widening her eyes. "And even so you allowed the Praetor-"

"He is an Instructor, Lasarra.", Raseac said, his tone firm. "He must not allow weakness to compromise those he leads in combat. And you cannot do anything for Anaris."

Lasarra was then disgusted at the Executor's lack of action.

"Then...", Lasarra started. "I suppose you will not do anything relating this."

"I will not.", Raseac said. "But perhaps you can."

Lasarra simply stared at the Executor, dumbstruck.

"What do you mean?", Lasarra asked.

"Has he taunted you, Initiate?", Raseac asked. "Provoked you into a battle?"

"He did.", Lasarra answered. "But I have not heeded, as it would be a breaking of discipline."

"'Tis something he does with those Initiates he considers strong enough or with the best of potentials.", Raseac said. "With you, I believe, he had done so because you are the _only_ Initiate. Nevertheless, he has challenged you, and one day you are to meet it. You must be prepared, by then."

"I shall definitely be bested, by then, like all others...", Lasarra said, in regret.

"A prediction too pessimistic, then, in my personal opinion.", Raseac commented.

"He has more strength and physical training than myself, Executor.", Lasarra said. "This is all but a prediction, but rather an enunciation of a fact. It may even be too sooner before I am properly trained and prepared."

"Or too late, Initiate.", Raseac assured the Initiate. "One thing that is certain is this will not be today, nor tomorrow. So you will be able to prepare yourself. Even with assistance, if needs be."

"Assistance?", Lasarra asked, dumbstruck. "But, Executor, I thought Biblos told me that my weakness is mine and only mine to resolve."

"And it is, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "Though not always. When most needed, one warrior always assists the other. Indebted, or not."

Lasarra did not understand it, at first, but then a light came up on her when she got to understand those words he said.

"Executor, you suggest that-", Lasarra started.

"_Do not say anything, Initiate._", Raseac censored, even with his large, thick hand. "Though I am surprised your mind was clever to understand this, and quite fast, as well. In any event, you should take a rest, Lasarra. A long day lies before both of us, tomorrow. You, on your training, and mine on my duty below, by our newly set settlement. You can go now, Lasarra. En Taro Tassadar."

Lasarra simply bowed to the Executor and then turned around to leave the quarters, the suggestion Raseac told her in mind. Something perhaps too unorthodox, even for one of his standing to do this to an Initiate. But now, as she crossed the entrance to the Quarters and returned to the golden clad halls of the Daelaam vessel, her focus was clear. She had something to handle two problems at once. A debt would be paid and a friendship restored. And preparation, coming from one versed in the ways of war, would come, hopefully as more forgiving than Biblos ever were.

Curiously, the Terrans had a term to resume that. _Two rabbits with a stick._

* * *

**DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD -_ HARKONNEN_**  
**DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR**  
**TWO HOURS LATER**

The large service bay section from the _Harkonnen_ fortress was crowded and working at all due speed at the time, refitting and preparing the vehicles and aircraft for the battle that would occur. From the lightest of Hellions to Siege Tanks, Vikings in their assault mode and the humongous Thor stationed by one of the scaffolding construction sites, sparks flew up high as mechanics and their welders did their work concerning preparations. Fuel Tanks for vehicles and Hellion flamethrowers, as well as crates and ammunition stacks, ranging from bullets for Viking and Goliath autocannons to gigantic rounds for the Thor's cannons, were spread around or moving, in addition to crates with repair and construction tools as well as green barrels, filled with Vespene Gas.

But it weren't the tanks, nor Thors, nor Goliaths or other vehicles that mattered to Horace Warfield, but rather what was a bit more beyond the service garage, by the far end, where the taller, but thinner Kel-Morian Warhounds were being refitted. He, along with the chief mechanic of the stronghold, Mercer Groves, walked through the service bay, beneath the super-structure, above the courtyard, where the primary Dominion base lied. As both Groves and Warfield walked, with a bit of a hurry, it could be told, the General could feel a bit of fatigue due to the non-stop work those mechanics had been under the last couple of hours. Still, given that what the soldiers out there would face, the fatigue somehow would be worth it, hopefully. Groves was already a tad older for a mechanic's standards, though younger than the war-torn General whom walked at his side. He wore a black gray jump suit as well as a vest with the tools strapped, so much as the tightly laced black boots he wore. He had a short black hair, blue eyes and an old, pale white face with a long nose.

When both General and Chief Mechanic arrived, Warfield could see the tall Warhounds, noticing subtle, but significant changes on them. The Warhounds were painted with the red color of the Dominion, as well as the Dominion Shield in every last one of them, but this was the smallest of things to be noticed, just a paint job. There was a second missile pod installed on the other, empty shoulder, but this pod was a bit more longer in length, with smaller rocket holes installed. A second arm with a shield, replacing the pure shield arm from behind, now contained a large cannon barrel as well as a small autogun below it, with the bullet magazine exposed and connecting the gun to the large ammunition box at the mech's backside. On the sides of the cockpit, where smaller plating with an X depression were at, now lied two smaller cannons, meant to launching grenades of a sort, but these were a secondary function. The original left arm, with the railgun, suffered no alteration but the addition of a smaller twin barrel below, with a hose connecting the weapon to the tank below. A flamethrower. Below the cockpit of the mechanoid, a small turret with a machine gun, akin to those used on the Goliaths, stood as it's small barrel aimed forward. Sparks continued to fire by it as the Dominion mechanics on the scaffolding performed the final touches to the refit work the General requested.

"I'm seeing those things now sound a bit more _convincing_ in a fight.", Warhound said, looking at one such Warhound. "Alright, mister Groves, you have five minutes. Impress me."

"Well, General...", Groves started, a clear British tone. "As you and the late Colonel Richter requested, you wanted the Warhound to be in a decent fighting shape, so, obviously, we had to shove a bit more of weaponry than we'd have liked, making it a multiple solution for most situations, though at a cost of a bit of a speed and armour. Starting with the original missile launcher, we replace the Haywire Missiles with Hellfire packs, for the traditional air Zerg situation. The other launcher, as you may have noticed, contains Hurricane missile packs for rapid anti-air rocket fire, manual targeting available if needed. Given we need every weapon we could have available, we decided to preserve the main railgun cannon, adding only a compact flamethrower. Not so powerful as those of Firebats, or Hellions or even these new Hellbats, but they can handle small Zerg pockets as well. The other arm, however, has a more tactical function. It carries a compact battle cannon, that fires 15mm explosive rounds at a moderate rate of fire, meant to pierce moderate Zerg carapace, found in Zerg Roaches. Below it, a mounted 7.5mm autocannon for standard combat. Two grenade launchers for medium range fire, one shot every ten seconds. Small radius blast. Finally, a small automated gun turret, for fire support."

"Sounds decent enough.", Warfield said, staring at the mechanoids. "Though I'm pretty damn sure those Zerg won't hit with puppies alone. Can any of these weapons perform a scratch or two on an Ultralisk?"

"Only two, and they'll be better used combined.", Groves answered. "The railgun itself and the battle cannon. If you'd like, you can use a barrage of the Hurricane missiles."

"How long until we can load and get them into the field?", Warfield asked.

"The final welding to the armor plating is under way, General.", Groves replied. "With the additional delay for fully loading ammunition, roughly half-hour."

"I want them ready in at least twenty.", Warfield ordered. "What of the other vehicles?"

"All checked up and nearly good to go to the brawl, sir.", Groves answered.

"And the refit I asked you perform on all Vikings?", Warfield asked, a bit tense. "Is it done."

"All afterburners accounted for.", Groves replied. "They're only awaiting ammunition load."

"Get every Viking back to the courtyard now.", Warfield ordered. "I want them on air as soon as-"

"General!", another British voice, this one belonging to Duncan McGrudd, suddenly came up on Warfield's intercom, sounding alarmed. "Horace, are you there!?"

"I'm here, McGrudd, what is it?", Warfield readily asked. "Kerrigan's doing it!? She's launching the attack?"

"No, sir, it's the beast, it's getting off the ground!", McGrudd answered, alarmed.

Widening his eyes, Warfield immediately stormed, running like hell to the outside of the fortress and back to the P.O.C., his aged heart hurting due to the effort the General was putting, his old legs getting tired as well, all as he circled around to atop a wall, where he could see the vision of the Blackrock Twins, where the Zerg Leviathan, in all it's glory and horror, now stood afloat, rock and dirt raining from the below the creature. Warfield's expression was a fearful one. It was going to happen, after all, and she'd already do it all using the monster, much before the massive losses from smaller minions occurred. People ran frantically, assuming battle stations, all preparing for the worst.

"_McGrudd!_", Warfield shouted, alarmed. "_Tell me the nukes are being armed!_"

"Sure as hell they are, sir!", McGrudd ordered. "Loading up and heating in five!"

"Load up the artifact in the gravitational field generator, get it to charge now!", Warfield ordered, before he saw the beast then began to move. It slowly turned to the right, in Warfield's point of view, as it raised from the ground, as if it were going somewhere else. It was then that he noticed the beast started moving forward, apparently not headed directly to the fortress' position. He gradually looked at the beast as it moved aside, to somewhere else but _Harkonnen_.

'_What the fekk..._', Warfield thought.

"General, are you seeing this?", McGrudd asked, surprised. "The thing is moving, but it's moving _away!_"

"_Yeah, I'm seeing the damn thing, McGrudd, but keep tight, still!_", Warfield ordered. "She may be trying to flank us, _don't lower the guard!_"

"Roger, sir!", McGrudd complied. "Should we dispatch our air force to handle it!? Take an opportunity?"

"I doubt the rockets and missiles can do a scratch on that, McGrudd.", Warfield said. "Damn thing can handle Battlecruisers, fighters are nothing but flies harassing the thing. Keep them here, where our ground anti-air can help out. I'm not taking chances!"

"Aye, General.", McGrudd replied.

However, for a couple of minutes, so much Warfield as everyone on the station just looked at the gargantuan Leviathan as it moved away and away afar. It didn't turn, it didn't strafed or did nothing. For a couple of times, as precaution, Warfield looked at the mountain to notice it was empty, nothing coming out of it. Warfield was dumbstruck. It didn't even seem Kerrigan was going to fight, at all.

"It's not even turning...", Warfield said to himself, suspicious. "That's not normal, Kerrigan wouldn't just chicken out of a fight like that."

Unless...

"Duncan, on the direction the thing is headed, where do you think it's going?", Warfield asked.

"Hold on, General...", McGrudd said, tense. "General, this is not good."

"What is it?", Warfield asked.

"The Leviathan's direction, sir...", McGrudd said. "It's headed to the Dead End Mountains."

Warfield then started to see what was going on. She was going to pick up a more easier fight. The standard plan for when a position was too strong to take over, just like in an old movie he'd seen. Take the positions around _Harkonnen_, one at a time, minimize chance for reinforcements. And there was only one base on Char, other than that of Warfield's.

_Doom Hammer._

"_Get transports loaded and ready to take off!_", Warfield ordered. "_The moment they send distress calls, I want backup on the air!_"

* * *

X

* * *

_**FINAL COMMENTS:**_

Okay, let's head first into the two-week delay. You guys must remember, when I told you when I released Chapter 7 (_Calm After the Storm_), concerning that new place the firm I worked for opened on another state and that, as a result, I'd have to postpone three weeks to help organize it as a consultant. I was recalled there past week, in Wednesday, when the fic was practically at half the work done, because of technical issues that brewed there as a result of the new person's lack of experience. Goddamn people, a lot of work to straighten things up and just a few days to ruin it all! As the problem-solver, they immediately shoved me in a plane five hours later, couldn't even straighten the bags, and I hoped I could solve this in a day or two. But it took the rest of the week and weekend, all to teach that boy, the company ordered, some redhaired punk I won't mention his name, and I only managed to get back home this Monday. So excuse the lack of news or the delay, please, understand that this is not my fault.

Now, then, if that's solved let's talk of the chapter itself. As I assured, it'd be three final chapters to conclude the Char arc, and now the first, the prelude to battle, is now done. And I can't believe I freaking managed to make a chapter larger than the one from the battle of _Verhoeven_! More than 40k words! But then, I didn't want to break that limit, that's it, we're getting done with the Char arc once and for all and period! It took twice the size, enough to fill two chapters, but now everything's set for the next course of the game.

But I can't just leave it by that without delivering a few personal notes concerning some things on this chapter. First, the plan concerning _Harkonnen_. There are those who'll call it silly, by the idea of transforming Vipers in trebuchets themselves, or the idea of utilizing Changelings, but first let's concern a few concepts that are being introduced with this on the Zerg. Lateral thinking and innovation, something that Terrans are well aware of and that was even introduced on the Ghost Academy comics. As Abathur clearly denoted, war isn't just about numbers, or firepower, or supplies, but also concerning psychological warfare, fooling one person into doing or not doing something. That is something that many of the times, in modern strategy, is often considered and even applied. The very first example, the explicit, I mean, was the very Trojan Horse itself. Though here we're dealing with fooling someone by appearing in plain sight, and not even being there. But it's still an example of fooling an opponent, something that can rather be applied in real life as in StarCraft, with a distraction when you bring transports to the backdoor of the base, the works. Then, there's innovation, and that concerns the Viper. Actually, many will say that's nothing new, but to the Zerg it is, because, until Kerrigan was brought in, they weren't that much into lateral thinking, always wanting or developing a direct solution, where every situation A needed a solution B because no one thought that the solution C could work, too. And that came from something old, something the Zerg wouldn't know or even care to know! On that, on a personal note and if you're curious, the original idea was to utilize the Fatty, the old Infestor model, as a cannon for Banelings, but then I realized it was a bit too silly. Then, seeing a match video on the net and the use of the Viper's abduct made me remind of _Age of Empires II_, that reminded me of trebuchets, then, and then I realized '_Hey, it's not that bad._'. Well, sue me for that if you want, I liked it.

Then, following, we get to Hardscape. Good pace, good development, getting to parts people will get extremely familiar with, especially those whom've read the Ghost Academy saga. I intend to follow a bit on that, on my own style. And I think you'll like that one, too, especially coming from someone as... different, as Lio is.

The introduction for Gestalt Zero, many will tell, is a bit odd, given he left, though not with the Protoss, but ask yourselves, where else he's supposed to go? He's not got a pretty good face, right now, to mingle back into Terran society, the Zerg would try assimilating him and probably fail, so that leaves the Protoss. Still, they're not so forgiving with the fact that not only he's a monster, but also a murderer and such. The change in persona can be explained by the years he spent, developing his sarcastic attitude. In most accounts, a Protoss Ezio di Auditori.

Lasarra, however, I confess, was one of the hardest segments I could ever conceive to write and such. Two factors contributed to such difficulty, one was the lack of knowledge of how a Zealot was trained, other than in the _Frontline_ comics, and that only covered the Zealot's precog ability. There was also a lack of knowledge of how exactly is the experience of subsuming in the Khala, hence the almost irritating scene that was Lasarra's recovery, that sounded a bit *too* religious for my taste, but had to be done and I was out of ideas. If anyone would like to criticize or correct such things, feel free to post them in the review. The second factor was the timing. I was so compromised to not messing with it, to avoid killing the flow, that I didn't realize I might've already done with introducing the Protoss on Chapter 8 (The First Warm Breeze), when actually it should've been done in The Puppet Queen. Now I may have to rush things a little bit, and that's something I never liked doing, concerning writing. This simply kills the magic of Fanfic, rushing stuff.

But it's already a tad too late, and the next chapter is restricted to Char, the final battle and getting things to be settled, as well as the introduction of someone new in the chapter after. After the battle, I'll see if I can give Lasarra some fighting skills, even though they're the most basic of all, for an important scene that's related to the story. Chapter 21 will also first introduce to Kaldir, before the Zerg arrive, and I'll extend in at least one mission, making four, for Kerrigan, that is finding a way to adapt to that world and it's infernal flash freeze storms.

Well, I said enough. I'm back, sorry for the delay, comment, critique, review, the works, ladies and gentlemen. Until next week. Hopefully, I'll have that time, depending on how things go from now on, at that new firm site...


End file.
